Writings on the Wall
by LunaAzul788
Summary: When intergalactic bounty hunter extraordinaire Samus Aran receives a faux distress call staged by Space Pirates, she was sent crashing to a familiar planet called Earth. Despair turns to hope when she meets Solid Snake, a retired FOXHOUND operative whose life's mission was to prevent an impending nuclear war that threatened his homeworld.
1. Samus Aran

_"Everything can be taken from a man,  
but the last of the human freedoms is to choose  
one's attitude in any given set of circumstances."  
_– Viktor Frankl

**_1_**

**Samus Aran**

Galactic Federation Headquarters_  
7J0L.Y33600A + 12568L_

* * *

_"No objections… right, Lady?"_

Samus Aran opened her eyes slowly, waking to those words that lingered in her ear. It had been a year since the Bottle Ship incident. A year since she has heard him say those words. She got up the small bed and fixed her hair into a low ponytail. The morning sun shone through the hexagonally shaped window of the small room, greeting her alongside the sound of a soft knock.

"Rise and shine, Princess!" Anthony Higgs beamed as he peered inside her room. Samus gave him a sleepy smile. A year ago, Higgs looked like a well-toned, middle-aged soldier who might have paid his way through university playing rugby. Now he was gaining weight, his stained tank top was too tight, and he had grown a beer belly. Ever since the incident, he returned home to his wife Danielle and their four-year-old daughter Amy. Although Samus was happy that he finally got the break he deserved, she worried about his overeating habits.

"Good morning, Anthony," Samus said as she gave her arms a good stretch.

"Dani brought Amy over to the park but left us some raisin muffins for breakfast." He scratched the back of his head. "Damn. She knows how I feel about raisins."

Samus chuckled. "Sure, Anthony. Tell you what, I'll eat your share and tell Dani that you finished your breakfast—like the good boy you are. But you have to promise that you'll join me for rounds at the camp later," she said, playfully pushing his right shoulder. Clearly, she was talking about the track-and-field grounds where she and Anthony had spent the days of their youth doing fieldwork drills, training for search-and-rescue assignments. Samus recalled spending more hours on that field than in her own dormitory.

"All right, but not for more than two hours. Got that, Princess?" When Samus only arched a brow, he shook his head, trying to stifle a chortle.

She followed him to the kitchen. The space was small but sufficient for a small, growing family of three. The officials of the Galactic Federation were keen on their 'anti-corruption' policies stating that members of the military are to live a modest life and that any luxuries possessed would be brought in for questioning—a ridiculously rigorous process that no one wanted to endure, and Samus could even recall Anthony joking about how he would rather die in the middle of a battle than of old age processing those damn papers.

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you actually," Samus spoke up, slathering jam and cream cheese on a muffin still warm from the oven. "I dreamt of him, again." She sounded calmer than expected.

"Hey… Sam," Anthony looked up at her from his breakfast blintz. "It's okay. I miss him too." He slid a hand across the table and gave hers a comforting squeeze. Samus smiled. Anthony has always been the gentle giant.

"I just wish he was still here," she said. "He was like the father I never had. Sometimes when I'm called to headquarters, I always find myself drawn to his office. Sounds stupid—but I couldn't help myself from thinking that I'd see him there again."

"It's not stupid. I understand. Malkovich was a brave man not because he sacrificed himself to save us all but because he knew what he would be leaving behind. He knew he'd be leaving you alone. Come on, Princess. Let's both be brave for him."

Samus nodded. She saw the sincerity in his eyes, clear as day. He missed his superior officer as much as she did. But as he said, they had to be brave—to be strong for today and for tomorrow. There had always been a peculiar warmth in Anthony, aside from his cheerful grins and playful taunts, that Samus had first noticed when he had spoken to her. Now he was flashing her a smile but with a tiredness reflected in his eyes, the withering shell of a retired soldier.

The kitchen door opened, metal stills slightly scraping the newly waxed floor. Danielle came in, cradling a tired Amy in her arms. The child spun when she saw Samus move from her seat to give her mother a hug. Danielle protested that she was sweaty from the walk, but Samus would hear none of it and enveloped the woman in a bear hug. Little Amy cried out, spooked by how close Samus was, and buried her face into her mother's shoulder.

"That's Aunty Sammy, sweety!" Danielle turned her around to face Samus. "Don't you want to say 'hello' to Aunty Sammy?"

"It's okay Dani," Samus reassured her. "You two might be exhausted from the morning walk anyways. I'll clean up here so you could put her to bed."

"Oh my, that would be great Samus! Thank you!" Danielle grinned as she adjusted her arms around the child who was slipping off her grip. She turned on her heel to bring Amy over to her room but stopped just before she could reach the archway, remembering something important. "Oh, Anthony dear, did you get to finish your breakfast?"

Anthony paused for a while, feeling his throat suddenly go dry. "O-Of course, honey! As always, it was just _the _best!"

Danielle nodded her head slowly, steadily looking at her husband. She shifted her glance to Samus for confirmation, and when the blonde woman simply nodded back, she finally exited the room.

Anthony felt a glad knocking in his chest, but some apprehension too. He eyed his accomplice, who kept at her satirical stare. "I owe you," he mouthed to her.

Samus couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Get changed," she ordered, walking past him. "Let's get to the grounds early. Wouldn't want to get burned under the ten o'clock sun now, do we?"

* * *

The run barely lasted for forty-five minutes, and Anthony was already slumped on the concrete, bathed in his sweat, and gasping for glorious air. Samus paused to watch her partner pathetically complain to himself why he wouldn't just eat his damn raisin-filled breakfast and had to suffer the consequence of a minimal fifteen rounds.

"Maybe now is a good time for a break," Samus suggested, placing both hands on her hips. She was grateful that it was a weekday—the cadets were attending lectures, and no one was around to see a former elite soldier grumble about having to run laps.

He gave her a goofy grin as he sat up. "Hot damn, I am so out of shape." He stretched his left arm, crossing it against the elbow of his right. "But this is good—I mean, this exercise is good for me."

"Of course it is," Samus needled. "Just because you're a dad now doesn't mean you have to live up to its SOP."

"SOP?"

"Standards of physique."

Anthony laughed, amused with Samus' dry sense of humor. Samus smirked as she sat next to him. The scent of fresh grass enticed her senses. She loved the forest, or generally, anything that had to do with nature. It was her getaway—a marked contrast from the cold metal facilities she commonly infiltrates during missions. She could only hope that one day, she'd get to settle down in a place filled with trees, flowers, and wildlife.

The man sighed. "Yeah, yeah…well I, uh, wanted to tell you about something too."

"What's up?" she asked, hugging her long slender legs.

"The federation hired me for a new mission—direct action in some planet called Tera," he said nonchalantly. "Official initiation begins next month. Didn't want to get more ass-chewing from headquarters, so I said, why not."

"Direct action…" Samus muttered to herself. "How much are they paying you for this?"

"Hell do I know," Anthony chuckled halfheartedly. "Amy's going to school next year and Dani's still looking for a job. At least this mission could help pay a few bills."

Samus nodded silently, sympathetic to her comrade's situation. He told her he had finally retired about six or seven months ago, but she knew all too well that was not going to be the case. She saw this coming. The Galactic Federation didn't really care about the well-being of their soldiers, only their welfare. They used some contract as an excuse to explain that they were not tied to any ethical grounds. For Samus, contracts are just paper; the soldiers were of flesh and blood. It was because of this maltreatment that she had chosen to become a bounty hunter, leaving with her training unfinished and the small unit she had once called a family in dismay.

Samus placed a comforting hand on Anthony's shoulder. "Hey, just so you know—I'm rooting for you. If you need me, just give me a call." She tapped on the black device that encircled her wrist. "I'll keep in touch."

"Of course, Princess." He smiled at her. "With the universe's greatest bounty hunter on our side, consider this mission accomplished!"

* * *

Two months had passed since her visit to Anthony and his family. She had promised little Amy that when they meet again, she'll teach her how to shoot a blaster. Of course, Danielle didn't approve of having their only daughter use weapons of any sort but nonetheless was convinced by Anthony that she would need to learn how to defend herself sooner or later.

Some few days ago, Samus had just accomplished another assignment commissioned by the Galactic Federation. But _accomplished _perhaps wasn't the correct term. The federation had specifically assigned her to investigate the cause of an explosion in one of their top biological research facilities orbiting the planet SR388. During her investigation, she accidentally discovered a restricted area within the facility—a station where Metroids were bred illegally for military purposes. Eventually, she figured out that the Galactic Federation was behind this and instead of following orders to return to base, she set the station to crash into SR388, ultimately destroying the research facility, the planet, and the entire X species.

Now she was floating freely across the dark of space, uncertain of where to go and what to do. Alone with her thoughts, all that Samus reflected on was her mission. Usually, she had no qualms about an assignment as long as no one stood in her way and she would receive the payment as soon as the deal is sealed, but there was just something wrong about this operation. She had felt it in her gut. During her days as a young soldier, she was always told to strictly follow orders, to never question authority, and to never act on her own judgment without consulting her commanding officer.

But Samus isn't their soldier anymore. She wasn't going to be a pawn in their game.

It was an unfortunate turn of events that she wanted to suppress into the abyss of her unconscious. She had turned against orders by the federation, and she knew that there would be a heavy price to pay for it.

Just then, a distress call alarmed her ship, seizing her attention. The signal came from a remote region of space, codenamed: "Baby's Cry". It was déjà vu, but then again, it could be just some other search-and-rescue mission since "Baby's Cry" was commonly used, after all. Samus punched in the coordinates but crunched her brows when she noticed the planet of destination was Planet C-53 also known as "Tera".

_"The federation hired me for a new mission—direct action on some planet called Tera…" _Anthony's deep voice echoed in her memory. Samus felt her throat go dry as she confirmed her course to the source of the signal. "Oh, shit. Shit, please no. Please don't be what I think this is."

The planet Tera was found well beyond the other planets, its dull earthy color accounting well for its camouflaged atmosphere. The terrain on the planet was nothing more than a rocky wasteland. Thick dust swirled away, revealing boulders that could be seen from miles away. She walked on, hand on her cannon, vigilant as always. Just a few moments, large piles of varying scrapped metal came into view like small mountains—behemoth blocks of bronze, nickel, silver, and iron that lustered against the golden haze. "Damage from the wreckage? Why is everything piled up like in a junkyard?" Samus asked herself. "There's enough metal here to rebuild the Ceres station…"

Just then, a piece of metal fell off its place. Samus spins without missing a beat; her cannon pointed towards the source of the sound. _Just a tin can. _She scanned her surroundings again. It was eerily quiet. She inhaled, praying that Anthony was on this planet and that he was all right.

Before she could exhale, a thin electric wire swung around her neck, causing her to lose balance and fall painfully on her back. She briefly checked her visor for any damage. It was minimal. She jumped right back up and fired a missile. The creature leaped away from the metal pile it hid behind towards a boulder. Samus fired again, but as she did, more of the reptilian-like creatures came sprinting towards her, clawing viciously at the smooth metal surface of the Varia suit.

"Space Pirates?! How?" she yelled.

She morphed herself into a ball and roused up some bombs. The Space Pirates backed away from the explosions but appeared unscathed. Samus cleared her visor to get a better glimpse of the Space Pirates and was bewildered to see the creatures were wearing some metal-like armor that primarily covered their heads, arms, torso, and knees. Samus steadied her cannon, charging it for a plasma beam. "Let's see how you like this," she taunted.

The blast sent the Space Pirates on fire, ripping a significant portion of their metal armor. Samus smirked to herself and prepared for another shot. It took a while for another beam that massive to charge and the Space Pirates didn't waste a single second to pile up on her once more.

"Death to the hunter!" they screeched.

"Damn it," Samus cussed as she tried to push the creatures off her. She shot out missiles and bombs, but there were too many of them. Now those who got caught in her blast joined in the fray and Samus was almost stunned at how quickly they recovered. She had no choice—she had to retreat.

It was unlike Samus to run away from a fight, but she had to be smart—she needed to be alive in order to save Anthony. Samus punched in the codes for her ship to launch and depart for space. She felt her heart race, swearing it might jump out of her chest. The Space Pirates weren't letting her go easily. They mobilized their ground weapons with some as lethal as her own plasma beam. Over two thousand feet off the ground, she heard a crash as the ship violently shook. The right wing was severely hit. Samus tried to gain back control, giving more power to the engines. But it was too late. The ship spiraled across space, and all that Samus could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat.

With all engines dysfunctional, Samus had no control over the Hunter IV as it drifted lifelessly in space like some asteroids' debris. All she wanted to do now was rest. But how could she? Knowing that her closest friend was out there perhaps barely alive, rest was something far from what she could have now.

The nose of the ship suddenly pitched up sharply, and the spaceship started to shake. Samus glanced outside the window, a blurry sight of blue was all she could make off. In the cockpit, alarms notified her that she had just entered the stratosphere of a planet and was about to stall. Samus only had seconds to act before she would fall out of the sky.

Samus recalled her flight training. If she slows the ship down too much, it will stall before it would simply drop. She tilted the nose down carefully, trying to gain as much altitude. As the shaking continued, Samus feared the worse. Two hundred and fifty feet from the ground, her ship suddenly stopped climbing and began to drop. She frantically jammed the throttle forward—the maximum thrust. But it was too late.

"Anthony…" she whispered, tears in her eyes. "Forgive me."

* * *

Not too far from the crash site, a man clothed in heavy winter garb came rushing after he heard the screams of what seemed like an aircraft. His entire person was covered, only his deep set of gray-blue eyes left bare. Normally, with snow this heavy, he would rather stay home and enjoy the warm company of his Alaskan huskies, but he couldn't shake the eerie feeling that something terrible was bound to happen.

Samus blinked. The first thing she felt was heaviness—her entire body weighted down, threatening to pull her back into the darkness she had detested so much. She forced herself to open her eyes and stand up. She still had on her Varia suit, fortunate that it had cushioned her fall. It took a few more seconds for some of her senses to snap back up. There was snow, and though she couldn't discern anything else, she heard barking. Animals? Creatures were surrounding her? Where in the galaxy was she?

"Hey, you okay?"

Samus could make out the gruff voice of a man but has no idea where he was. She tried to position herself vigilantly, holding against the ruined exterior of her ship to steady herself.

The barking and howling from the creatures stirred up again. She heard the man hush them before calmly speaking, "Hey… I'm here to help. You're—a woman?"

"W-Who are you?! Identify yourself!" Samus yelled out as panic started to rise in her throat, and she began to fight the dizzying feeling even more.

"Look, I'm not here to hurt you. You fell from the sky and I'm surprised to see you make it out alive. Even with armor like that, you still look pretty injured," the man pointed out.

The cold nabbed at the Varia suit, draining the last of its power until she was forced back into her Zero Suit. "I…" she stumbled forward and the man moved in hastily to catch her. She looked up to see his face and saw him staring back at her. She focused on his eyes weakly, wondering to herself if that was enough for her to remember him.

The man felt her weight drag down as she was losing consciousness fast. "…The c-cold…" he heard her mumble.

Samus felt her eyes shut slowly, silencing the sound of the cold breeze. With what remained of her consciousness, she felt a load of warm cloth blanket over her. The last memory played in her mind—the image of the man with those silver-blue eyes, promising her of safety.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**I haven't played Metroid, but I've watched several cutscenes and gameplays. Unfortunately, this isn't fully an SSB story so you might be a bit disappointed if the other characters aren't in it, although some would be mentioned. And I am saying this now as well: please bear with somehow slow updates, though I promise to finish this story with the quality people deserve as soon as I can.**

**Just a disclaimer: some coordinates for locations are canon, others could be randomly generated.**


	2. Solid Snake

**_2_**

**Solid Snake**

James Hoppcraft Medical Center  
_Allakaket, Alaska, United States of America  
__66.562610, -152.64756_

* * *

A flash of bright light wavered the darkness in the room. Samus slowly opened her eyes, careful not to perturb her vision. How long had she been out? Normally, as a bounty hunter, she could estimate how much time passed on her own. But she was on a different planet now, and time here may have worked differently.

Samus glanced around the room, then to herself. The room was small—smaller than the guest room in Anthony's home and was painted a calming shade of white and walnut. Small decors like a small vase with a single yellow flower adorned the room, and she was grateful enough for not being held within a place that looked like a prison. She was dressed in a curious pale blue gown and had a tag with her name attached to her wrist.

Samus turned her head to the left—towards the door where she heard faint distant chatter. "Her vitals seem to be working efficiently, but her left wrist would need some time to heal. Give or take, maybe a week." It was a woman who had been speaking.

_My wrist is…broken? _she thought to herself, lifting her hand to see it professionally wrapped in a thick white cast.

The door creaked open and entered a thin brunette woman garbed in a white coat, her eyes glued to a clipboard. She must be the one who was speaking earlier. After her, came in a man wearing a black woolen trench coat that looked like it had seen better days. Samus shifted her focus towards the man, examining him more carefully. He had ruffled dark brown hair that reached to his nape and a poorly shaved stubble. He looked tired and had dark puffs under his silver-blue eyes. Had he been waiting for her?

The woman handed the man a slip. As she made her way out the door, the man thanked her, hearing him call "doctor". _Doctor? Did he mean a quarantine officer? Is this some medical facility? _It could be that she was back at the federation headquarters, waking up from another nightmare. The man coughed into his hand, and Samus' attention was seized and realized just then that they were left alone.

"Where am I?" Samus asked immediately, in a tone that demanded an answer. She tried to sit up but winced in pain, forgetting that her wrist was in bad shape.

"Easy there," the man said, his voice low and scruffy. "You've been out for twelve hours. I wouldn't try to sit up too hastily that if I were you. Also, your wrist is in pretty bad shape, so try not to move it around too much."

_Twelve hours?! _Samus concealed the shock she felt, hoping not to prompt any questions from the man. Her thoughts fluctuated, dizzying her even more. How would she fix her ship? How would she return home? Was Anthony still alive? Where the hell was she? She wanted answers, and she needed them fast.

"You—you were the one who brought me here," Samus glowered. "What do you want from me? Why did you bring me here? What did you do to my hand?!"

"Calm down. I'll be the one asking questions here." He snagged the stool beside the nightstand and leveled himself until they were on par, eye-to-eye. "First, who are you? And second, what happened out there?"

Samus said nothing.

"Okay… so if you're not answering those, then answer me this; are you a spy? An assassin?" The woman frowned at him, but he kept at the questions. "Who sent you? Was it The Patriots?"

Samus crunched her brows. Just who is this man? Why was he interrogating her like she was some hired hitman? She continued to ignore all his other questions. The man seemed convinced that she knew nothing about The Patriots, or Metal Gear, or any of those shenanigans he was throwing at her.

"Hm. You're a talker," he sighed, leaning forward on his seat. "But y'know—I can do this all day."

"Where is my ship?" Samus blurted.

"Oh, you mean that chunk of crap that you fell from? I'm pretty sure it's still there."

"Chunk of crap?" Samus was taken aback by his audacity. She felt her face grow hot with anger and would've hesitated to punch him square in the face if she wasn't wounded.

"Yeah. It looked pretty beat up to me. What was that thing anyway? Some sort of fighter jet?" he asked.

Samus paused. "No, that was my ship—a Hunter-class gunship. It is… well—was my only way to navigate and travel around the galaxies. Without it, I honestly have no idea how I'm ever going to get home." She gave her wrist a glimpse, studying it with frustration. She was on some distant planet, her ship couldn't bring her back, her wrist is broken, and Anthony was in grave danger. She wanted to punch the walls, then curl up and cry…but she can't.

The sudden flux of emotions in the room did not go unnoticed by the man. He sighed deeply and turned his gaze towards the horizon outside—a picturesque scene of green and white. When he looked back at her, Samus was looking towards the window as well. He coughed in his hand again. "Uh, okay, so your things are just in that cabinet over there," he said, pointing at a narrow walnut closet that reaches from the floor to the ceiling. "You can get changed once you're feeling better then we could—uh, I could bring you over to my place."

"Your place? Where is that?" she asked.

"It's confidential."

"So you planning to kidnap me?"

"What?! No—no, it's not like that. It's because—ugh, I'll just tell you on the way." He stood abruptly and headed towards the door. "I'll come back for you in about three hours. Turns out there are more papers to process." He turned the knob of the door, then paused. "Don't push yourself."

The three hours passed by in their silent ways, and Samus was almost startled when she heard the door creak open. No quarantine officer this time, just the scruffy silver-eyed man. She was already dressed in her Zero Suit, though her paralyzer and other equipment seemed to be missing.

Samus stood from the bed to confront the man and demand that he return her things, but when she caught sight of him, the man was static in his place, humming to himself as he conspicuously studied her.

"Where is my paralyzer? You said all my things were in there!" She pointed to the cabinet which was now empty except say for a few hangers and a small safe box.

"I didn't say all of your things—your weapon was confiscated," he simply said.

"Give it back."

"It's confiscated. I can't do that."

"Why?"

"For one, I have never seen any handheld weapon like that, and I don't trust you handling it around me."

Samus rolled her eyes. "I don't shoot around wildly like some unrefined madman. My weapon is not even meant to kill—it's a paralyzer."

The man placed a thumb under his stubbled chin, giving it a scratch. "I'll have to see that for myself. What exactly is that you're wearing? It couldn't be a stealth suit with all those glowing points around."

"It's called a Zero Suit," she said. "It's the only suit I have for now—but it's all that I've got. It's better than nothing."

"Zero Suit, huh? Maybe you'd like to see me in my_ zero_ suit," the man smirked. He studied her again carefully, all the way from the head down to the toe. The blue suit she had on was extremely skintight, highlighting every curve and _asset _of her body that would put all those skinny supermodels to shame. Another thing that surprised him was how her slender frame could host such strength and stamina since she was even still able to stand up and walk minutes after the crash. He had expected the woman under that power suit to be the size of some seasoned gym trainer.

"Aren't we going yet?" she pressed, crossing her arms.

The man looked up to meet her face, not at all embarrassed that she caught him staring. "Waiting on you. Shall we?" He beckoned towards the door.

Samus gave the room one last check before walking past the man, her hips swaying side to side in rhythm to some imperceptible beat. As soon as she was in front of him, the man found his eyes glance down in places where they best shouldn't be.

In Solid Snake's experience, anger often made women look tacky. Rage makes their hairs stick out, and their skin suddenly turns to a dull pale shade. Any unattractive feature was magnified. The woman looked herself when she rode shotgun of his modernized Willys MB, but he could tell that she was pretty pissed all right.

Snake thought he might learn a large new truth about this mysterious woman that night.

Thick fragrance of pine and sap mixed into the cold air and puffed at them as Snake drove off-road. Though the 4x4 did little to suffice them with a bit more comfort, it managed to do its job satisfactorily. Thirty minutes passed and Snake had guessed that she had already fallen asleep.

There was certainly _something_ about this woman—something her tempestuous beauty that almost seemed feral, stunning eyes that shifted from pools of blue and green whenever she'd give him that aloof gaze that made his throat go dry as the Alaskan tundras…and don't even get him started on her body.

Apart from all those somethings, she was a fighter. She didn't hesitate to hold back on him even if she was wounded. It may still be a long shot to say that she was his kind of woman, but Snake would definitely be lying if he said that she didn't turn him on.

The day he found her on those cold mountains at the site of the crash, he worried that The Patriots had discovered him. The ship was unlike any military aircraft he had seen before, including that odd power suit of hers. He knew from experience that the world was a bizarre place, and there are many things the world has yet to comprehend fully. But in spite of this, Snake didn't believe in magic, angels, and mysticisms but he was damn sure that any illusions had some logical explanation behind them. For every covert is a corresponding overt.

Snake returned his thoughts to the woman. It was a two-hour long drive back to his home—a modest two-story lakeside log cabin hidden away in the depths of unregistered Alaskan forests untraceable by the GPS. This was another gift from former colonel Roy Campbell, after saving his niece and the rest of the world from Metal Gear REX.

"What are you planning to do with me?" Her voice startled him at the slightest. He thought for sure she was asleep.

"I don't know. I'll figure that out soon," Snake said. The woman was scowling at him again; and again, he didn't stifle a smirk.

Her scowl morphed into a look of puzzlement, and though Snake kept his eyes on the road, he could easily discern the change in her emotion.

"Am I…your prisoner?" she asked, her voice low with slight a hum to it. Snake knew she was being serious but damn, did she really have to make it sound it so…seductive?

"As I've said—I'll figure that out soon," he said. "Though I'm being nice to you and all, I just want to make it clear that I still don't trust you."

"Oh, and what makes you think that I trust _you_? You're the one bringing me to some unknown location against my consent."

"Consent?" Snake laughed mockingly. "You told me that you had nowhere else to go without your ship. I already told you I'd bring you with me and you agreed!"

"I didn't say anything—you never even told me where you would be taking me! And don't go blaming my lack of consent for your poor conception of our conversation earlier."

Snake growled, frustrated. He wanted to hit the brakes hard and send her off to the deeper ends of the woods—but of course, he would never do that, especially to a striking sharp-tongued woman who may be suffering from acute stress.

"Okay fine," Snake said impatiently, tired of the futile argument. "You are _not _my prisoner, but I still don't trust you."

"I'm glad we've cleared out on that," the woman shared her sentiments.

"Let me clear this one out for you too—if I figure out that you're not who you really are—if you double-cross me in any way, I won't stop myself for a second to kill you."

The air between them suddenly grew heavier, yet the woman appeared unfazed by his words.

"The same goes for you."

* * *

**Alaska, United States of America**  
**_Coordinates unknown_**

It was well past midnight when they arrived at Snake's cabin. Light snow was falling, spreading a thin blanket of white all around. As soon as he parked his jeep, Snake reminds her that he was a man of his word, going as far as telling her that there are hidden remote-controlled bombs—C4s all over the cabin and that if she tried to pull off a stunt, he would detonate it all.

The woman sneered with a chuckle at his explanation, calling it an idiotic plan. "You're willing to waste tons of firepower just for one person? You could get yourself killed in the process too." There was a point to what she said, but Snake had his reasons and wasn't too eager to share.

"Aren't you getting down?" he asked, diverting the subject.

"It's…too cold. I'll stay here," she replied.

"What? You'll be colder if you stay here. Why does being cold even bother you so much?"

The woman paused. "It's none of your business."

"I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but it is _my_ business. Look—" Snake gently took hold of her shoulders, and she gave him that menacing, enthralling glare that made his hairs stand. "I'm not going to hurt you unless you try to hurt me. I'm trying to help you out here. I think we got off on the wrong foot, too. My name is—" He stopped himself there. Can he really trust this woman with something as important as his name?

Just then, a chorus of howls and gleeful yaps welcomed the man and his companion. Four Alaskan huskies tackled Snake with such force that he stumbled back against the snow. After he recovered himself, he gave each a warm pat on the head and introduced the woman.

The woman was shivering when she stepped out but still managed to extend out her hand to one of the dogs. Snake warned her that they usually take some time to get used to other people, but then realized he spoke too soon when all four of his dogs surrounded her, sharing their warmth to the woman. Snake kept his gaze at her as she rubbed on the dogs' fur as if they had been long-time friends.

The moment the woman tried to say something, she felt a sharp pain on her lower left rib. She cried out in pain as she collapsed on the snow. By instinct, Snake wasted no second to lift her and carry her inside. What was happening to her? Does it have something to do with her condition after the crash? Or worse, was it…FOXDIE?

"The c-cold…" she struggled to say. "…it w-will k-kill me…"

Snake acted fast—he carried her to his bedroom, wrapped her in several blankets, and set up the fireplace. That was all he could do, for now. The dogs followed suit, curious eyes settling towards the mysterious blonde woman. Relieved from the warmth, the woman thanked Snake and apologized for having borrowed his room. He told her to think nothing of it and to get some rest while he prepares them some supper.

* * *

It wasn't unusual for Snake to prepare a meal in the middle of the night. Whenever he had missions that lasted for more than 18 hours straight, he learned how to hunt more efficiently and create what he would consider a four-course-meal out of nothing. During one of his training sessions at the Green Berets, he was even made to eat raw fish and snakes. Preparing a meal in the comforts of his own home with proper ingredients was a simple luxury.

As he cut into one of the carrots he bought from the farmer's market yesterday, his thoughts brought him to the woman in his bedroom. Besides the ludicrous idea that he had finally brought in a woman on his bed and making himself smirk, he was genuinely concerned for her well-being. He wasn't sure why but he needed to know if she could really be someone she's not. The Patriots always had something up their sleeves and Snake couldn't be more careful.

Sighing, he put the knife down and decided to make a call.

"Hey, Otacon. You up?" he said in a low voice as he pressed two fingers against the back of his ear.

"Hey there, Snake! Great timing—I was just about to call you." The man called Otacon had a voice that befitted a man far younger than he indeed was with that cheerful and friendly edge to it, but fully personified the engineer's geeky side. "But since you called first, you can go ahead."

"All right. Otacon, there's a woman upstairs in my bedroom now. She—"

"I would rather you spare me the details, Snake. I wouldn't want to pry on your private business like that," Otacon said.

Snake clamped his eyes shut and grimaced, unsure if the man was kidding around or was just being genuinely respectful. "It's not like that, Otacon! She came from this spaceship thing that crashed yesterday. She's alive with barely a scratch to her other than a broken wrist. I took her to the hospital, but now that she's out of there, she's got nowhere else to go—"

"So you took her in?" Otacon chimed in.

"Yeah… something like that."

A brief silence permeated their conversation when Otacon didn't respond. It was if he was thinking what Snake had initially thought about the said woman.

"Are you sure she isn't a spy sent by The Patriots? Or perhaps some other unknown organization who knows about us?"

Snake grumbled. "No, I don't think so. She has no idea about The Patriots, about Metal Gear, or about the wars that happened before. But it's still a long shot to say that she's an extraterrestrial or something just because her ship and armor look weird."

"Armor, you say? So she also has a some uniquely designed exoskeleton?" Otacon asked. "Like that ninja?"

"You could say that. It looked some kind of bulky orange power suit. She had a helmet that matched the same color scheme, but her visor was almost too opaque to make out her eyes. That suit saved her from the crash," Snake said matter-of-factly.

"And you could tell that she was a woman underneath all that bulky armor? Wow, Snake. Your instincts on the female species are really something." Snake could feel Otacon grinning from his end of the line. "All right, all right. On a more serious note—can you describe her more for me? Perhaps I could match any physical attributes to my data set of personnel involved in the Shadow Moses and Big Shell incidents."

"Other than she's a blonde bombshell with an hourglass figure? I don't have much else to say."

Otacon scowled. "Are you sure you're not describing some supermodel, Snake? You could give me particulars on height, weight? Her eye, skin, and hair color? Her name…?"

"Name? No idea. Height? I'd say a five-foot-nine. Weight… she was a bit heavy with the armor on, but when I carried her to my room, I'd approximate it to 165 pounds. Hair color would be blonde, fair complexion, eye color…uh, primarily blue with slight emerald green."

"I'd say…you've been spending some time observing her eyes, I see," Otacon teased. "I'm surprised you didn't describe her eyes as mesmerizing or something as cheesy."

"As cliché as it sounds—the eyes are the windows to the soul. When words fail, a person's eyes can cry out for help or confess secrets that betray them." The broth was finally boiling, and Snake added in the chopped vegetables, closed the lid, and set the timer for four minutes.

"Spoken like a poet. Anyways, I've noted down your _very_ helpful descriptions and would run some comparative analyses," Otacon said simply. "On the reason why I said I was just about to call you—"

"Yeah?"

"I'm planning to visit you this Wednesday. That's the day after tomorrow. I've got new intel on a prototype Metal Gear project and would like to discuss it with you thoroughly this time—not like when we were separated in Big Shell. I couldn't come tomorrow because I—well, it's Emma's birthday and I was hoping to spend the day in honor of her."

"I'll say a little prayer," Snake quipped. He wasn't religious, but he wanted Otacon to feel that he understands and that it was perfectly fine with him. He knew how important Emma Emmerich was to the man and remembered how he even told him that they would only commemorate her birthday, never her death.

"Thanks, Snake." Otacon smiled on his end. "I'll be sure to give you a call when I'm on my way. Plus, I'm kind of excited to meet that new lady friend of yours."

Snake chuckled. "She's still far from a friend Otacon, but we'll know sooner or later. Who knows? Maybe we could even be more than friends."

"Oh, you sly dog! You don't even know her name. I'll make you a bet—ten bucks says you wouldn't be able to get her name by the time I get there."

Snake moved the contents of the steeping pot into a small glass bowl. The earthy aroma of the mushroom soup mixed with vegetables made the mercenary wish that he had made for more than one. "That long? Great. I'll gladly take your money on Wednesday."

* * *

**...**


	3. Alaska

**_3_**

**Alaska**

* * *

As she got off the bed, Samus realized something was different. Other than finding herself in a quaint rustic bedroom, the temperature surrounding her was oddly warm even though the fire from the night before had already died out. Another strange thing was the incessant buzzing sound that came from outside. She pulled the sheets aside and pushed the windows open.

Almost immediately, the thick scent of fresh grass and soil whiffed to her face. The rays of the sun hit the snow and ice, and the scenery she saw from yesterday had been replaced with more colors, light, and warmth. The buzzing sound came a small bumblebee, fluttering its way from tree to tree since the flowers have yet to bloom. The winter's transition to spring was surreal—unlike anything she had seen or felt before.

Moreover, she was simply glad that it wasn't snowing anymore.

Samus paced around the room a bit. The wooden floors were a deep oak shade and would creak slightly under each step she took. A few necessities could be found around the room—a modest wooden cabinet, a comfy queen-size bed, and a pair of nightstands with lampshades. Perhaps the only added inessentials were the giant old chest placed next to the closet, and the seemingly unused chess table that was complemented with a singular chair. Other than those, there was nothing more. There wasn't even a clock to tell the time. Samus assumed that the man valued simplicity and isolation.

It took her some time to notice the orange juice and two baked waffles sitting idly on the nightstand. Did he cook her breakfast?

Samus would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't hungry, but her stubbornness convinced her that she wasn't going to play prisoner. Instead, she made her way out of the room with the agenda of another confrontation.

Samus sneaked down the stairs. As she bent down, she saw a figure make its way to the kitchen—obviously, it was the man from yesterday. The owner of this house. Her 'kidnapper'. She idly shook her head, thinking it ridiculous that she could ever be kidnapped—she wasn't like her friend, Peach Toadstool. That woman would've raised questions if there was even a day that Bowser wouldn't try to kidnap her and usurp her kingdom. Samus took small steps down the flight of stairs; her right hand gripping on the polished handrail to steady her movements.

"Good morning." The man peered through the archway that led to the kitchen, a big satirical smile plastered on his scruffy face.

Samus felt her face flush. "H-How did you—?"

"I could hear your footsteps all the way from here. Guess you couldn't sneak for shit," he muttered between light chuckles. The man was brewing a pitcher of fresh coffee and as he grounded the roasted beans, Samus stomped her way towards him.

"What the hell—I wasn't trying to sneak on you!" she fumed.

"Did you get to eat your breakfast? I left it for you in the bedroom," he said, ignoring her dispute.

"No," she spat.

"It's not good to waste food, you know."

"I won't let you treat me like a prisoner."

The man paused from his work. "This again? Didn't we just talk about that yesterday? I told you—you're not my prisoner."

"Well, you threatened me like one," she seethed.

"I was giving you a warning!"

Samus released a frustrated sigh. It was a beautiful morning and now she was on the verge of ruining it. She didn't blame the man for bringing in a stranger to his home, but did he really have to sound so harsh?

"If I'm not your prisoner," she began more calmly this time. "Then why did you have to threaten me so much yesterday? Why did you have to tell me that if you caught me lying to you then you'd kill me?"

It was the man's turn to sigh. "It's complicated…but I'm sorry if I did. I was just wary of bringing a stranger into my home, and I didn't consider it would bother you so much."

When Samus said nothing, the man filtered the last of the coffee grounds into the pitcher. He offered her some and Samus silently agreed. They sat across one other on a small dining table made with another wooden variety—_mahogany_, Samus guessed and drank slowly under the heavy silence. Once in awhile, Samus would catch him staring at her, and when she would raise him a brow, he would raise her his. It was like a game. No words were exchanged during those few minutes with either one trying to seize the other's stare. It was only when Samus had finished her coffee that she broke the ice.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she hissed.

"Like what?"

"Like _that_! You're staring at me—it's giving me the creeps."

Snake glanced at the quarter left in his cup before purring, "Oh, you don't like it when I stare at you?"

Samus didn't fathom why this man was suddenly acting so flirty around her. First, he threatened her that he wouldn't hesitate to kill her; then, he gives her those sly side-glances and mischievous smirks whenever she'd get a glimpse of him.

"No shit," she muttered dryly.

"Huh, your loss. I could stare at you the whole day."

"What the—? Why would you even do that?"

"Because you're beautiful."

Samus was not only taken aback by the man's choice of words but with how he spoke with such mere candor. Who the hell did he think he was? Normally, she would've just rolled her eyes or punched anyone who dared to speak of her appearance but found herself gazing towards the large windows that welcomed the early morning sun instead.

"What happened to the snow?" Samus digressed.

"When winter leaves, spring comes." He picked up her empty porcelain cup and proceeds to wash them. "Spring here in Alaska…it's beautiful. But it could spell out hardships for some animals who'd be emerging from hibernation."

"Oh…what animals?" she asked.

"Let's see…there are the ground squirrels, grizzly bears, black bears, some beetles…"

"I'd like to see, please." Samus stood from her seat and walked towards the man. "If I'm not really a prisoner you'd take me out to see the animals."

"Oh, so are you asking me on a date?" he smirked again. He wiped the counter clean and she found herself mentally noting down his tidiness. When she said nothing, the man gave her an unreadable look as he paced towards the window, breathing in the fresh spring air. Samus wanted to follow him but thought it could imply that she wanted to be near him, ergo, she wanted his attention.

"Are you taking me or not?" Samus sassed.

"Feisty. I like that in a woman," the man said, walking back towards her. Samus' face grew warm, feeling almost intimidated by his strong strut. Though the man was wearing an oversized sweater and a pair of dense jeans, she could tell from underneath all that clothing that he was fit, and the way he carried himself around even when he was just doing mundane things like washing the dishes was enough for her to hint that this man was no ordinary individual. Samus almost flushed after she had just realized she was actually thinking about how this man appeared without his clothes.

"Sure, I'll take you around. We could even go fishing, hiking, and a bit of hunting—especially now that the caribou are migrating by the hundreds," the man said, suddenly perking up. Then he waved her a finger. "On one condition though."

Samus deadpanned. "What is it?"

"You tell me your name."

"My name?" Samus asked, blinking twice in her bewilderment.

The man nodded before saying, "Yeah. Your _real_ name." When she still kept at her confused expression, he continued, "Then I'll tell you mine."

"Fine," she gave in. "My name is Samus Aran. You can just call me Samus."

The man looked as if he was attempting to stifle a simper. "Samus? What kind of a name is Samus?" he teased, arching an eyebrow.

Samus rolled her eyes. "Why don't you tell me your name before you start judging mine?"

"Well, you can call me Snake."

"Oh…and what kind of a name is Snake?"

* * *

It did not take long for Samus to fall in love with the wilderness of Alaska. The faint aroma of fresh hemlock leaves rode on the soft cool breeze that fanned her cheeks. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and held it for a moment. The muscles in her shoulders relaxed as she opened her eyes and exhaled, immersing in the beauty around her. She loved everything about nature. The sights, the smells, the sounds—everything nature offered enticed her senses.

Unfortunately for her, there was no promise of this immersion for as soon as they began the hike, Snake threw her questions here and there and when he asked her about the crash, Samus didn't really know how to explain it. To him, she might sound ridiculous, yet so far, he seemed to be listening intently to every word—taking in every detail she utters. More often than not, Samus never really did have to think twice about everything she had to say, she'd just say whatever was on her head. But with this man, she might have to consider using alternatives and paraphrasing. Despite the staggering amount of questions, he spoke characteristically—as if he had taken some time to write down the questions and considered the delivery. To her surprise, sometimes the questions wouldn't even sound interrogative.

They've walked for about two kilometers now, and neither one showed signs of fatigue, thirst, or attempts to slow down. It was then when Snake decided to liven things up a bit—for him, particularly.

"By the way, what is that blue suit you've been wearing?" Snake asked, trying not to linger on the highlighted curves of her body.

"I told you before—it's my Zero Suit." Samus stretched out an arm to showcase its flexible properties. "It protects me well enough from extreme temperatures and doesn't hinder my movements as much as my power suit." She leaned against a spruce's trunk, basking under the warmth of the late morning sun. She felt Snake's eyes on her and instead of scowling as she normally would, she gave him a smirk. "You'd be surprised at how fast I could move in this suit."

Snake chuckled under his breath, unsure of the woman's tone and what she meant by her last sentence. "Is that a challenge?"

"Not really," she answered. "So, how far is our destination?"

"Less than a klick away. Not any more than that." He then pulled out a cigar from his bomber jacket's breast pocket, lit it up, and savored the sweet taste of nicotine.

"Are you really supposed to be smoking in a place filled with grass and trees? You might start a fire."

"A little carbon dioxide wouldn't hurt the trees," he said. "And I don't throw butts around in places like these—I have a special little case." He patted the front pocket of his black cargo pants.

Samus paused a while before speaking up again, changing the subject. "A while ago, you said 'klick'…are you military?"

"Yeah," Snake replied, pulling the cigar out from his mouth. "Are you?"

"Was." Samus hoped she sounded more indifferent, and just as she expected, her tone was a trigger for Snake to ask her about it. She merely shook her head and proposed that they continue their walk.

Snake watched her walk past him. The natural ease of trudging along the muddy path was replaced with rigid and slow strides. He felt uncomfortable watching her walk that way and hoped he just kept his mouth shut. It was typical for many former soldiers to avert from discussing their experiences, not wanting to relieve any painful memories.

The end of the trail brought them to a clearing where thousands of caribou grazed, and Samus swore to herself that she had never seen so many animals flock together before. It was spectacular. From the distance, the caribou looked like multicolored rocks.

"Those are caribou," Snake explained as if reading her mind. "They live in large herds and migrate long distances. Like the bumblebees, their arrival marks the first sign of spring here in Alaska."

"Amazing," Samus said softly.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the animals. Snake then takes out the Marlin rifle slung across his body, checks the mechanical safety, and searched around for a decent shooting spot. He beckoned Samus to stay put since her bright blue suit stood out too much. Instead, she positioned herself somewhere where she could observe him.

Samus studied Snake as he laid on his stomach and held the rifle with such ease. His eyes were those of a predator—feral and focused as if he carefully watched his target's movements. There was something in those deep set of eyes that Samus couldn't quite describe…it bore stories of a war-hardened man but with a softness that spoke of a compassionate aspect of him.

Samus wasn't always good at reading people, but she listened well. Usually, the silence of one's eyes speaks volumes.

The sound of a fired shot startled Samus from her thoughts. There was a lot of recoil from the rifle, but Snake remained unfazed by it. She noticed how his hold on the weapon wasn't average—it could be that he had been doing this for several years. Her gaze shifted towards the distance where the caribou had fled, unable to fully make out whether his shot had counted a kill.

Surely, it did.

They approached the creature lying lifelessly on the ground, a bullet hole marked through its skull. It was a fatal shot, one many seasoned hunters recommend since very little meat would be lost. Samus was impressed with how quickly and efficiently Snake carried out this little hunting operation, especially after he had told her he wasn't really a hunter. Samus agreed. The dogs were a giveaway that he was more of a musher.

The next thing on their itinerary was fishing.

In the early days of spring, Alaskan herring come spawning and all Snake needed to hear were the seagulls' calling. Although, without a fishing boat, it would be improbable to catch a multitude of fish. But Snake learned a couple of old fishermen tricks. He cuts off a gigantic hemlock branch and effortlessly drags it to the shore. "Time to set the trap," he muttered before tossing the branch into the murky lake water.

"What was the branch for?" Samus asked.

"The hemlock leaves on that branch are strong and dense. It's the perfect place for the herring to lay their eggs. Sooner or later, those leaves will be covered in millions of scrumptious roe." He rubbed the dirt off his hands. "We'll come back here after a few days and by then, you'd see what I mean."

It was past noon and they were hungry. The last time they ate something was about eight hours ago, and Samus didn't get to touch the breakfast Snake prepared for her. She felt a bit guilty about that. It was a unanimous decision that they take a late lunch break. Snake took out the homemade grilled chicken sandwiches he prepared that morning and handed Samus her share. They sat in silence on a slippery rock above the shallows.

_Funny_, Samus thought as she considered what she felt towards this man. The day before, they were completely wary of each other and today, they sat in comfortable silence as if they had been long-time friends. Circumstances can change drastically in a matter of hours, minutes, or maybe even seconds.

The waves of the shallows were almost always calm, and Samus loved the sound of the water as the gentle waves rocked back-and-forth. She was so immersed in the experience that she barely heard when Snake asked how the food was.

"It's good," Samus reassured him. "You cook well."

Snake snickered. "Cook well? Is that your idea of a compliment?"

"And is that your way of saying a 'thank you'?" she argued.

"No, of course not. All right then, thank you for letting me know I cook well."

Samus frowned at him. "Why do you always like starting arguments? Is that how you normally are?"

"No," he answered earnestly. "I just like stirring things up with you. Has anyone ever told you that you look adorable when you're mad?"

She rolled her eyes before muttering, "My God." If this man was really trying to get his way with her then he'd be better off not trying to throw her with his god-awful pick-up lines. But if she were honest with herself, Samus really didn't know if Snake's flirting did have an effect on her. Surely, she'd attempt to ignore it but then again, no one has ever been that direct with her.

"There were a lot of missing details in your story earlier," Snake said, tossing some of the bread to the seagulls. The birds flocked to where he threw the crumbs, and he felt the corners of his lips tug to an amused smile. He's lived here all his life, but he never had grown tired of smaller joys he found in the company of Mother Nature and the animals. "You said that before you crashed here, you were supposed to carry out a search-and-rescue mission. What happened then?"

Samus paused, thinking Snake might have wanted to add another question. When he said nothing, she answered, "I received a distress call on my ship. When I arrived at the unfamiliar destination, I was ambushed by Space Pirates and—"

"Space Pirates?" Snake clarified. "Kind of sounds something out of a kid's cartoon."

"Yes, I know. Now, will you let me continue?"

"Yeah, sure. Sorry," he apologized.

Samus sighed. "I was ambushed, then was sent crashing here. Before you ask any more questions…the reason why I accepted a distress call to some unfamiliar and remote planet was that I knew my friend had a mission there. It was personal for me. That's why I needed to get out of here as soon as I can. I needed to save him."

"What the hell was your friend doing on that planet?" Snake asked.

"He's a retired soldier of the Galactic Federation. But he's been pulled out of his retirement to undertake a direct-action mission on that planet. He really didn't give me many details on why and how—but I knew why he accepted the mission…" Samus gave the man a brief glance. "He did it for his family. There was no other real choice—no other real way to make enough money. Besides, his loyalty is to the federation—loyalty…to the end, no matter the consequences."

"Relatable," Snake commented, drinking some cool water from his flask. He offered Samus some and she politely declined. "A soldier has only two choices—to follow the mission without question or to make a decision and take matters into your own hands. When you choose the former, you become a pawn in someone else's game. Your life is about the mission—your decisions are molded by the objectives of the mission. There are no friends, no enemies…there is just the mission. If you don't do as you were told, then you would have failed." Samus slowly nodded in understanding before he continued, "But if you choose to take matters into your hands, it becomes more personal. You may be leaving people behind, but you'll be fighting for what you believe is right. Then the people who follow you along this way, now they are your real friends."

Samus remembered the events in the Bottle Ship and SR388. "Relatable. I took the second path and Anthony Higgs took the first, just like my late superior." Then she shook her head. "But I couldn't fathom why we live in extremes—isn't there some sort of gray area in between? Does it always have to either be black or white?"

The sun's rays were set at an angle that Snake approximated as three in the afternoon. There were still some more chores to be done and Snake needed the sunlight to finish those chores. They packed up in silence and made the hour-long journey back to the cabin. Nevertheless, Samus' last words still hung heavily on their minds.

It didn't help at all for Snake that he had to drag an adult-sized caribou the entire way. But fortunately for him, the extremely attractive Miss Aran was there to keep his company.

As they trudged along the path, Snake pondered on Samus' stories, stitching together the details and mentally noting questions he would ask later on. Of all the questions he wanted to hear her answer had something to do with her life as a soldier. Did she have formal training? She mentioned she had a superior—what was her relationship with them? Was he hard on her, or did he treat her like a friend? Thinking about all these questions made him recall his own experiences, his own missions, and his own superiors.

Just then, Snake remembered Otacon and the bet they made the night before. The man smirked to himself, anticipant of his comrade's little tantrum after he tells him that he had just won their bet.

* * *

They arrived back at the lakeside cabin just before it turned five. There was no uneasiness between them as they went through the door and no signs of exhaustion from the long walk.

"I've still got to fix up the caribou and chop down some wood for the fireplace. I'll be in the backyard if you need me."

"Sure, I could prepare us some snacks," Samus offered.

Snake nodded, gesturing with a thumb over his shoulder towards the refrigerator. "Just shovel out anything you'd like from there. I won't take long." With that, he headed over to the other side of the house.

There wasn't much in Snake's fridge and Samus would have wanted to tell him that he should probably do some groceries—if they had such on this planet. She took out some slices of pastrami, lettuce, and whatever was left of his cheddar cheese. If he only had some focaccia bread, that would have been splendid, but she would have to make do with the plain white loaf.

Samus paused. Did he even want a sandwich? She could try to make a salad instead if he preferred it. She stared at the pastrami for a moment before eventually deciding to go ask the man herself.

Just as he told her, Snake was in the backyard chopping wood with a rusty ax that looked like it had seen better days. He was focused on his work and didn't see Samus watch him through the screen door. He had set aside his warm clothes from earlier and had nothing on but his cargo pants and black boots. Sweat trickled down his naked torso, glistening under the late-afternoon rays. His form was raw and Samus could see how every inch of muscle was highlighted when he flexed. She felt her face burn, finding herself undeniably yet secretly thrilled of watching the strapping half-naked man from a distance.

Eventually, the ax gave in and Samus heard him cuss under his breath. Snake threw the tool aside. The cut on the piece of wood barely reached the half, but it appeared as Snake cared less as he ripped the log with his bare hands.

Samus stared at him in utter surprise, her mouth almost agape. Though she had not underestimated him, her earlier thoughts were confirmed that he was not an ordinary man.

Snake threw the logs aside and took a breather, satisfied with his work. He wiped the sweat of his temple and shoulders with a clean towelette. As he turned to the side to pile up the freshly chopped logs, he caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye. He stood up quickly and smirked.

"I didn't hear you coming," he said. "Looks like you're enjoying the view, I see."

"I came to ask if you wanted a pastrami sandwich or a salad." Samus folded her arms across her chest, trying to sound casual. "You did a good job with the woodwork." A small compliment as she averted her gaze to the pile of logs, anything to keep her eyes of him. But ugh damn, that form and body…

"Uh yeah, thanks. But I'm not really hungry right now."

Samus perked up. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. But if you're hungry then feel free to make yourself whatever you'd like. I'll just bring those to the shed."

"Well, actually, I'm not really hungry either," Samus said. Snake arched her a brow and watched past by him to pick up the broken ax he discarded earlier, picking up with ease and toying with it like a baton. "I say…we should spar."

"Spar?" Snake repeated the last word with an incredulous tone. "You're still recovering from your injuries yesterday and not to mention, a fractured wrist. You're in no condition to fight."

Samus frowned at him. She glanced at the ax on her hand and hurled towards the ground where Snake stood. The head sliced through the thick soil just inches from Snake's boots. He remained composed, looking at the ax with hardened eyes. _This woman is crazy_, he thought. _Was this her idea of a warning shot? _When he looked up, he saw her making her way towards him, a small smile curving her soft lips. She didn't smile often, but when she did even at just the slightest, it was enough to make his mouth go dry.

"I'll make you a deal," Samus said, her voice low. "If I win, you'll allow me to spar with you whenever you like. But if you win, then I'll listen to you—no questions asked." She placed a hand on her hips as if posing for a photoshoot. "Are you up for it?"

Snake was still hesitant—it didn't feel right to engage a disadvantaged opponent in combat, but how could he resist a good clean fight? Plus, this would be a good way to gauge Samus' abilities of close quarter combat. He sighed. "Fine. But I have one additional condition."

"…That is?"

"Whoever loses cooks dinner."

Samus blinked. "Fine by me." She watched Snake bend his knees and steady his arms in an unusual battle stance, balancing his breathing. Although his muscles weren't tense, she could tell that he, too, felt a surge of excitement rush within his veins, itching to get on the battlefield. _I guess its ladies first then, _she smirked inwardly. "All right, Snake—you're mine!"

She launched herself at incredible speed, jumping over the surface he used to chop the wood on to give her a boosted forward double-kick. He blocked both kicks before lashing a flurry of three punches. She dodged the first two before catching his arm and twisting it an upward angle. Snake growled at the pain, then gave her an uppercut with his free arm. She stumbled backward from the blow, and Snake used this chance to give her a punch to the diaphragm. But Samus was too quick. She acrobatically flipped her body to the side, before sending a kick to his side and a follow up on his back. Outbalanced, Snake fell on his stomach then felt Samus' weight on him, pinning him down.

Samus grabbed hold of his arm, twisting it to prevent him from throwing any more punches. Snake felt her hair against his nape, and immediately realizing she was bending low, jerked his head back to collide with her forehead. Samus winced, feeling the pain scorch through her skull. Quickly, Snake rolled from under her loosened grip. Samus quickly stood the moment she saw him released and attacked with a flurry of punches. Snake caught her left hand with his and gave it a squeeze before twisting it. He pulled her against him, his free arm wrapped around her neck.

This close, she could smell the earth and leaves on him. Her back was against his sweaty bare torso and it was then she admitted to herself that she was too distracted to fight any further. Panting, she turned her head the best she can to try and face him. "Ugh, you win."

"Don't tell me you're giving that up too easily," Snake said, releasing his grip on her. Samus shook her head as she caressed the back of her neck. She yelled in her mind that he was distracting her—and yet, of course, she knew that distraction was an efficient tactic in combat. She wondered if Snake purposely pulled her in close like that to distract her.

"You caught hold of my left hand…my broken wrist," she excused. "You were right. I'm a lot more susceptible in this condition than I realized."

"But you put off a good fight," he encouraged her. "Even at your recovering state, you still managed to pin me down to the ground." Samus bit back a smile. Normally, her superiors would have told her to practice harder and scold her for being foolish enough to engage an opponent in a critical condition. Samus gazed at the man, focusing on those silver-blue eyes. They both had come from a painful past they weren't prepared to disclose with the other. And although she wanted to learn more, that would mean she would be establishing a new connection—another relationship…something she had learned to become fearful of. It was why she was always alone.

"If it makes you feel better, I'll cook dinner," Snake offered. Samus shook her head, almost flashing a smile.

"No, it's fine. A deal is a deal."

"But you were clearly at a disadvantage. It just doesn't feel right," Snake argued.

Samus sighed. Clearly, they had another thing in common—that is, stubbornness. "All right then! Fine. Why not I help you cook dinner then? Let's call it an Even-Steven."

Snake thought for a second. Though he would have preferred her to rest after their unexpected scuffle, her company would have made things feel a bit lighter. "A deal's a deal anyway," he muttered softly. "How's some salad and herring à la Meunière sound to you?"

"I have no idea…but it sounds tasty."

* * *

**...**


	4. Dr Hal Otacon Emmerich

**_4_**

**Dr. Hal "Otacon" Emmerich**

* * *

Samus was sore when she awoke the next morning. It was the good kind of sore—like the one she was used to after productive hours of training in the fields and simulations. She lazily stretched her arms, got off the bed, and casually tied her hair into a ponytail. She was grateful to have a room of her own, although it was still in Snake's hidden cabin, it was good enough for her to be someplace where she had decent privacy.

Samus briefly recalled the conversation she had with the mercenary last night during their dinner. It was a delicious meal, albeit the seriousness of their exchange seemed to have shifted her attention from the buttery-goodness of the Meunière towards Anthony.

After Snake had noticed the panic that threatened to make its way through her nerves, he decided to switch topics. Instead, Snake encouraged her to have believed in her friend. _"__If he's as brave and strong as you said he was, then you shouldn't worry at all. Have a little faith."_ She remembered him say those words that night. Frankly, she didn't peg for him as one who believes in coincidences or uses words such as "faith,"; yet again, the man was a mystery to her—just as she was to him.

As she made her way towards the stairs, she noticed how the doors to his room were shut. The halls were silent, no sounds of footsteps anywhere. Only the song of the wind as it meets the trees and the buzzing from the honeybees. It was truly enthralling. Samus wanted to linger a bit longer, but the grumbling of her stomach begged otherwise.

She made her way into the kitchen. There was no sign of the man anywhere. Quite hesitantly, she pulled out some of the leftover salad from the night before and wondered to herself if Snake went out for an early morning walk. She glimpsed to the aging grandfather clock in the living room. It read: 08:40 am.

Samus bit the inside of her cheek, finally deciding to brew some coffee for herself and perhaps for Snake after he does show up. She placed the grounds into the filter, just as she had watched him do so yesterday, and poured in some hot water. The simple act made her smile to herself. It was something she saw herself do every morning while listening to the minuet of the untamed forests.

Just then, something most unforeseen happened. The doorbell rang.

Samus swerved her head towards the front door, heart pounding loudly within her chest. She thought Snake's location was secured and was untraceable from anywhere…or was he hiding something? Had he been lying to her?

The doorbell rang once more. Samus took a kitchen knife from one of the drawers, telling herself that she would kill the intruder first before interrogating the man as soon as she finds him. She slowly crept her way towards the corridor that led to the living room, compressing her grip on the knife.

Before she could reach the door, Snake groggily made his way down the stairs, dressed in a plain black shirt and a pair of pajamas. His hair was unkempt and fighting to keep the sleep off his eyes. It did not take Samus even a second to discern that he had just woken up. _That's why the door to his room was shut_, she thought.

Snake paused the moment he saw her standing by the door, a knife on her hand. "Put that thing away before you poke someone's eye out," he said quite casually, with no hints of alarm or care in the slightest. He yawned, walked past her, and opened the door.

Samus positioned herself to get a better perspective. Snake seemed to have greeted with some enthusiasm before taking a step aside as he invited the guest into his home. The visitor was revealed to be a bespectacled man with brown hair and a clean shave. He wore a faded, long-sleeved shirt that he didn't bother to tuck in the tacky olive-colored pants that were obviously a size too big for him. What amused her most was how he trembled the moment he saw her, intimidated by the knife on her hand.

"Oh! Y-You must be Samus! I'm p-pleased to m-meet your acquaintance, but p-please don't stab me." The man was quaking as he cowered behind Snake and was holding his hands up defensively.

"She's not going to hurt you," Snake reassured him. He nonchalantly glanced at Samus, then to the kitchen, then back at her. "You making coffee?"

Samus nodded. "I was going to make some for you too, but I didn't know where you were."

"You make coffee…for him?" The man's finger pointed from Samus to Snake, bewildered. "And I thought you two hated each other."

"Hate is such a strong word," Snake chimed in. "But before anything else, I should introduce you two first. Otacon, this is Samus Aran—and Samus, this is Otacon."

"Another former militia?"

"No," Otacon answered. "I'm an engineer. I used to work for a defense contractor we called ArmsTech and… I was convinced into building something I wasn't fully aware of. Anyhow, I'll spare you the details. In short, Snake here saved me from my misery. He gave me this chance to make a new name for myself—to make some new memories instead of living in the shadows of the past." He then gave the mercenary a sincere nod, despite his comical late-morning appearance.

Samus gave Otacon a small smile. "I see… Perhaps this conversation would seem better over some coffee and brunch? Don't you both think so?"

* * *

Contrary to how she initially felt with Snake, Otacon was a lot easier to talk to—he was jolly, friendly, and the polar opposite of the grumbling mercenary. Otacon revealed to her that he prefers tea over coffee. Samus wondered if this had something to do with his joviality since, in her experience, tea people were often 'less hostile' compared to coffee drinkers. She caught a glimpse of Snake, who was grumpily downing the black liquid and looking as if he lost a million-dollar bet. _S_amus smirked inwardly. _I rest my case_, she thought to herself.

The lighter conversation moved on to a more serious one when Otacon began to speak of new 'Metal Gear' information he had stumbled upon as well as news of a British private militia in development. He opened up his laptop and gave Snake a glimpse of confidential files retrieved after the Outer Haven incident.

"It all started as an espionage and surveillance private service," Otacon began. He scrolled through the software and displayed the types of activities the company was actively undertaking. "Before then, they were called Praying Mantis Surveillance—or PMS for short." Otacon looked at the mercenary. "It says here that Liquid Snake, your brother, was in charge of initiating their operations."

"PMS, huh? No wonder Liquid had been so moody," Snake sniggered.

Although she kept quiet in her seat and her coffee had turned cold, Samus listened intently, deeply interested in the conversation. So this was what the man was really up to! He was like some sort of secret agent-slash-soldier involved in some complex inter-agency conflict with family affairs. She needed to know more.

"What is Metal Gear?" Samus suddenly asked. The men looked at one another. They were so immersed in their conversation that they barely noticed the woman seated across them on the small round table.

Otacon half-closed the screen of his laptop and set his eyeglasses to the side. Samus could make out the heavy bags underneath his tired eyes. "Well, Metal Gear refers to superior bipedal metal tanks that known for its capabilities of launching nuclear missiles. I say 'superior' in a sense that not only are these warheads faster and stronger than your average military tanks, like the M1A2 or M90, but they were also designed to answer the gap between infantry and artillery. You see, although infantry could roam the battlefield at will, the artillery would be at the mercy of the terrain, but while infantry is vulnerable and lacking in firepower, the artillery could inflict a lot more damage and still resist a good amount of hits. With Metal Gear, you get all the pros and less of the cons."

"But I'm assuming that its nuclear capabilities are what's most threatening," Samus said. "Back in my home planet, nuclear weapons are not to belittle. Even with our technology advancements, weaponry still proves most menacing when it contains nuclear properties."

"This is exactly why we need to get more information on that prototype! That could be our worst threat yet!" Otacon insisted, turning his attention back to Snake. "Philanthropy may have given us a location—but that was it. Nothing more. That's why they need us to investigate further."

"Philanthropy?" Samus asked again.

"It's the non-government organization we're working with to stop all the Metal Gear," Otacon answered. "I could tell you more about our NGO's structure and cause, but there are far more distressing concerns that need to be dealt with first—such as our financial troubles…"

"No." Samus and Otacon glanced at Snake, who slammed his porcelain mug on the surface. "You don't have to involve Samus in any of this! We don't share information about Philanthropy with anyone and certainly those who we still couldn't fully trust!"

Otacon gulped. "But Snake, I was just trying to—"

"You've done enough telling her about Metal Gear and Philanthropy, now shut your pipe before I do it for you! I thought you've learned enough from before, Otacon."

"Hey, what the hell is your deal?" Samus argued. "I know nothing about this operation of yours, and in the genuine interest of things, I asked. You don't have to point fingers at Otacon and threaten him. I thought he was your friend!"

Snake grumbled. "I've had just enough of this. Don't involve yourself in any of this, Samus—and Otacon, you heard what I said." He took the empty mugs and proceeded to wash them in the other room.

Samus gave a scoff, folding her arms across her chest. "What the hell was that about? He has got some serious anger issues."

Otacon released a heavy sigh. "Just give him some time to cool off, Samus." He gave her a sheepish smile, and the air felt almost instantaneously lighter. "Snake may be a cranky jerk-ass sometimes, but he always means well. Given the nature of his work, he's not fully aware of the circumstances around him—like who to trust, what is right, what is justice…but he's actions are always valenced towards the greater good, even at the risk of his own life."

Samus' frown transformed into a more indifferent smile. The man shared her beliefs, her moral code, her values. If Otacon's words were indeed true, then she and Snake were very much alike. Their experiences are relatable, and now that their paths intertwined in a thin line, she could see how easily the bond between them begins to flourish.

"I'll head out for a walk," Samus said, getting up from her seat. "You can tell Snake since he still doesn't _fully_ trust me."

Otacon nodded to her. "I'll talk to him—see what I can do to ease up the air."

* * *

Otacon knew precisely where to find Snake whenever the man felt frustrated or depressed. In all those years he spent alongside him, fighting for the cause of a peaceful and free world, he had learned to call the legendary mercenary his friend…his brother—and Snake did the same as him.

"Knock knock," Otacon greeted as he tapped his knuckles against the screen door. Just as expected, Snake was leaning against the trunk of a pine, smoking a cigar, and enjoying his isolation. Otacon approached him and handed him a ten-dollar bill. "I'm an honest guy. Didn't quite think you'd forget about our little bet?"

"I didn't," Snake said simply, pocketing the money.

Otacon was relieved to hear the calmness in his tone. _That nicotine sure does wonders for him_, he told himself. "Samus headed out for a walk—says she needed me to let you know."

Snake said nothing, puffing out another smoke.

He continued, "And yeah, you were right. She's got charms befitting the crossover between a medieval princess and Victoria's Secret Angel. Now, you may think I'm being too assuming, but I think you actually hit it off pretty well with her."

Snake scoffed. "Pretty well? Weren't you there when we argued?"

"I'm looking at the bigger picture here, Snake. Yeah, sure—there was a minor setback. You need to work on that, and what better way of apologizing than to ask her out? Like, you could bring her to town? Take her out shopping, have dinner, and things like that."

"You've been watching too much Anime, Otacon. You've got to get out more often."

"The same can be said for you!" He pointed him a finger. "I'm telling you, Snake! I have this feeling waaay deep in my gut—she's different! You'd never find another woman like that, and you'll live to regret it if you don't try and get to know her better."

"Oh, I'm getting to know her better, all right. As you've told me before, we need to know if she's a spy—"

"That is not what I meant!"

Snake let out a loud sigh. If any, Otacon's play at wing-man was encouraging him at the slightest to apologize for lashing out. But his friend was right, he hit it off well enough with Samus that they got to engage in a friendly spar, cook dinner together, go out hunting and fishing… Plus, he couldn't lie to himself that he was undeniably attracted to Samus, and each moment they were alone with each other drew in a palpable tension they both were well cognizant of. They just chose not to give in—not until Otacon happened.

"Fine," Snake said finally. "I'll take her out to town. She could use some new clothes anyway. Though I really wouldn't mind watching her walk around in that blue suit of hers."

Otacon rolled his eyes to the back of his head. "Come on, Snake. Save the flirting for later, will you?"

* * *

"Do _what_ in town?"

"You and Snake could go out on a da—!"

"Shopping."

Otacon rubbed the pained part of his shoulder where Snake's fist landed impact. He sent the man a glare, only to be ignored all the more as Snake turned to face Samus.

"I wanted to apologize for being so gruff earlier. So, I ugh—I wanted to ask if you'd like to come with me to town to do some groceries and y'know, take you out shopping. You could use a new set of clothes too."

Samus folded her arms. "Why? What's wrong with my suit?"

"It's not exactly what the folks around here would be wearing," Otacon chimed in. "If you'd be coming with us around town, you've got to blend in."

Samus spared a moment to think about this. She has always wanted to explore out further, and a big plus is that she loved doing groceries. She smiled inwardly. "Okay, Snake. I forgive you. Just as long as you let me push the cart."

Snake chuckled at her ridiculous yet amusing request before saying, "Deal."

"All right then, gentlemen. When do we leave?"

Snake grumbled to himself, his grip firm on the stirring wheel. This was supposed to be a 'date' between him and Samus, but the darned woman, having grown fond of his comrade, insisted that Otacon comes along. Now, it was a date—with a third-wheel.

The ride to town took almost about an hour and a half, and Samus was low-key grateful for the heavy lunch Snake had prepared for them. She was given a trench coat to cover up while they searched for her 'appropriate' clothing. During the ride, Otacon showed her a magazine of what some women wear on this planet, and after flipping page-after-page discarding those who wearing bikinis and skimpy garments that barely passed for clothing, Samus finally decided on the features that would make up her outfit.

When Snake offered to buy her the clothes, she felt a bit embarrassed. The man has done so much for her ever since she crashed landed, and though they argued at times, he has not fallen short of apologizing. Samus remembered the compassionate aspect of Snake that Otacon told her about, and she realized his words ringed true. She made a promise to herself that she would repay him in some way, someday.

After parking the car, Snake gave Otacon his card and requested that he accompany Samus with her clothes shopping since he had some purchases to make at the nearby general store. They would then meet at the grocery store in an hour. Otacon nodded, taking the card and placing it inside the safety of his messenger bag.

The little bell on the door tingled as Samus and Otacon entered the store. Most of the galaxies she visited had these behemoth and technologically-advanced stores that sold state-of-the-art products and goods. This smaller store, however, possessed a quaint charm that she had never encountered before. Small racks that hung with a variety of clothes adorned the first floor and mezzanine, and the old-fashioned counter was placed by the corner next to the entryway. The walls, stories, and ceilings were all made of wood and resembled a barn that was well cared for.

Samus quickly made her way to the racks, searching for the garments she had in mind. The kindly old man offered her a basket, and she thanked him with a smile. It appears that the store was as antiquated as the staff.

Choosing and fitting the clothes took some time, and Samus was surprised; it was almost an hour. Otacon had to remind her that they should head to the grocery store and meet with Snake. Before agreeing, she hastily asked if she could change into a different outfit, running towards the nearest fitting room. In no more than five minutes, she pulled the curtains aside to reveal herself garbed in a black top, army green bomber jacket, black pants, and some knee-high boots.

"You look great!" Otacon complimented.

"Thank you. These clothes are surprisingly more comfortable than I expected," she replied.

Otacon nodded. "That's good to hear, but we should probably go now. I'm pretty sure Snake's already there."

Again, Otacon was right. They saw Snake waiting outside the store, sitting by the rusty metal bench, smoking a cigarette.

"Is that why you headed to the general store?" Otacon asked incredulously, gesturing to the white cigarette he held between his fingers.

"Yes and no. I bought more ammo, some wafer sticks, and rented a movie," Snake replied casually. His gaze then shifted from the annoyed man to the woman standing next to him. "And here I thought you couldn't get any more attractive, Samus."

"If only you weren't the one who paid for these clothes, I would have clawed your eyes out." Samus slowly walked towards him until their bodies were mere inches away from the other. Otacon's eyes popped open like balloons, awkwardly putting his hands behind him as he let out a faux cough. Samus gave Snake a small, sultry smile. "Thank you for this and for your compliment." She handed him his card back and made a gesture to the glass door. "Now then—on to the groceries, shall we?"

Before Snake could take back his card, a young man who was seated next to him on the bench snatched the card and ran towards the end of the street.

"Hey!" Snake yelled out, chasing after the thief. Samus told Otacon to stay behind as she immediately followed suit. As she was much more agile and faster than Snake, she caught up to him quickly. Just before they could both reach the thief, he hopped on a motorcycle where an accomplice seemed to have been waiting. They zipped off, and Samus cursed under her breath.

"I know a shortcut! You go on ahead and tail them, and I'll take them by surprise from the side." With that, Snake rushed off towards the narrow streets of the alley, and Samus sprinted on as she followed the motorcycle.

Though she was incredibly fast—as enhanced by the training with the Chozo—the motorcycle was faster. The thief spun around, revealing he was armed with a pistol and began shooting at her. She was able to dodge every bullet but was significantly slowed down. "Shit!" she cursed aloud as the vehicle sped up and extended the distance between them.

Samus slowed down. They were about to try a different route when the driver was suddenly thrown off his seat by a flying silver piece of metal—which appeared to be the lid of a trash can. She didn't waste any second to catch up and launched herself towards the thief, tackling him down to the ground. The man pushed her off and rolled to the side, aiming the pistol straight to Samus' head. Samus narrowed her eyes and scowled, "You don't know who you're messing with." Swiftly, she kicked the gun clean off the thief's hand and gave him a solid punch to the nose. The young man stumbled a few feet back, wincing in pain as he wiped the blood off his face.

The accomplice loaded his own gun, and before he could pull the trigger, he felt a heavy hand clench on his arm. He abruptly turned his head to the left and saw a man slowly waving a finger in a disapproving gesture. "Not today," Snake said in wry amusement. He twisted the man's arm, and caught the gun from his loosened grip, effectively disarming him while unloading the weapon.

"Argh—I'll make you pay for that, you shit!" The man threw a flurry of kicks and punches, and the mercenary could immediately tell that it was out of desperation. After Snake dodged the flimsy series of attacks, he gave the man one solid punch to the left cheek, followed with an uppercut to the jaw. The force sent the man flying backward, knocked out cold. With his work done, Snake walked over to join Samus, who was standing over the badly bruised thief.

"What do you think we should do to him?" she asked, returning him the stolen credit card. Snake took the card and hid it safely in the pocket of his cargo pants.

"Let him go. I think he's learned his lesson." He then turned his attention to the cowering thief. "Hey, listen, kid—you can be better than this if you choose to. You've got a long life ahead of you. Don't waste it doing these sorts of things. It isn't worth it. Now, go home."

The pair walked their way back to the grocery store, and it did not even take for a couple of minutes for Samus to speak her mind. "That was unexpected…"

"What is? The theft or the thief?" Snake asked.

"Well, I was thinking more about what you decided to do with the thief…but yeah, the theft was quite a surprise. Especially in a seemingly peaceful place like this."

"We never know…" was all Snake could think of to say. He paused a bit in his head, recalling the words his companion just said. "Wait, did you just…compliment me?"

Samus rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Think of it in any way you'd like. Objectively speaking, it was a noble gesture, even for someone like you."

Snake didn't know whether to feel flattered or offended. "Someone like me?" he asked. "Who exactly is…someone like me?"

Samus was about to respond until she found herself pondering to herself that she did not exactly know the man and was in no position to judge him. Sure, she could have used words such as "annoying", "grumpy", or even "kind-hearted", but decided against saying anything more. Telling him what she thought of him meant that she was opening up and digging deeper depths in their relationship.

Samus wanted to give him a small smile but slowly shook her head instead. "Nothing. Forget I said anything," she muttered.

"All right, then. I guess that could wait," Snake said. He didn't sound disappointed—instead, more matter-of-factly.

* * *

Otacon was sitting on the rusty bench, rubbing his hands to keep warm from the cold, waiting for his comrades, when he finally heard them walk up the block. He rushed to greet them and asked if they were all right. They reassured him they were unharmed and that the thief was properly dealt with. Otacon shook his head almost sorrowfully, disbelieved that petty crimes still remain along the narrow streets of such a small peaceful town.

The grocery shopping went smoothly, discounting the little bicker Otacon and Snake had concerning the behemoth number of whiskeys the mercenary was purchasing. Samus had to intervene and suggested that Snake could take seven bottles, at the most, back home. Otacon was surprised that Snake listened to her and had ultimately convinced himself that something was definitely going on between the two.

The sky had turned a dark gray when they arrived back in Snake's cabin. While Snake and Samus took turns carrying loads of groceries into the kitchen, Otacon organized the goods into the shelves and stocked the refrigerator. After all the work was done, Samus excused herself for a bath, and the latter decided to prepare dinner.

"How's some roasted duck sound to you?" Otacon suggested to Samus.

"Hmm…I've never tried, but it sounds delicious."

The engineer gave her a friendly smile. "Roasted duck, it is then! I don't mean to brag, but I've got me some mean roasting skills. Just ask Snake here if you need any further validations."

Samus chuckled. "I don't doubt your roasting skills, Otacon." With that, she made her way up the stairs and into the bathroom of her own bedroom.

"She's really something. Right, Snake?" Otacon teasingly nudged the mercenary with his elbow. He went to the cupboard a took out a large knife and some spices. He brought the duck to the sink, rinsed it with cold water, then carried it over to the island counter.

Snake unpacked the last of the grocery bags before putting them away. He opened one bottle of the whiskey and poured himself an old-fashion on the rocks. "Maybe you're the one who has a crush on her, Otacon," he said, taking a small sip of the drink.

"Geez, are you seriously drinking this early?" Otacon asked. When the man simply shrugged his shoulders, he rolled his eyes and poured himself a drink. "I don't like her the way _you_ do. You can't deny there's something between you two, Snake. Anyways, I thought that maybe…well, I could fix up her ship for her. Y'know since I've got nothing else to do with my time as of the moment until Philanthropy sends the details on our next mission."

"You should take that up with her, although I'm pretty sure she'll be happy with your help. She needs to get back home anyway," Snake replied.

"Where exactly is her home?"

"I…honestly, I have no idea."

Otacon continued with his work, scoring the skin on the duck's breast in a diamond pattern, carefully not to tear the meat below. He stuck the cavity of the duck with some garlic cloves, a quartered red onion, some rosemary sprigs, and a slice of lemon. He couldn't stifle himself from laughing when Snake jokingly commented, "Up yours," when he added the ingredients into the duck.

"Need a hand with anything, boys?"

The sound of Samus' voice seized their attention. She was brushing her wet hair just enough to get rid of the tangles, allowing it to rest on her shoulders. She had on a plain blue shirt paired with loose pajamas. Snake stared a bit. Even in those clothes, she looked beautiful. After a moment, he silently went back to his cold drink.

Otacon set the duck aside and answered over his shoulder. "Hey, Samus! Yeah, you could mix up the spices on the counter. I'll just preheat the oven."

"And why are you drinking and not helping?" she teased Snake, combining the salt, paprika, garlic powder, and pepper into a small glass bowl before stirring the elements into a mix.

"Hey, I cooked lunch. Give me a break," he said casually.

"Well, fair enough."

They finished dinner, all pleased with the meal, none talking much now. Otacon looked at his watch and saw that it was getting late. The stars were out in full, and the crickets had hushed down. He enjoyed talking to Snake and Samus and finally brought up the topic on the bounty hunter's ruined ship.

"Hey guys, I know it's getting pretty late, and I should probably be heading home now—"

"Yeah, you should," Snake interjected.

"Yeah…well, thanks for sending me away now, you bastard. But before I leave—Samus," Otacon caught Samus full attention and gave her a smile. "While we're still waiting on the mission, I was thinking that I could maybe have a look at your ship? I may not know much about your world or your technology, but it wouldn't hurt to try, right?"

Samus held back her grin. She wanted to jump across the table and give the man a huge hug, yet withdrew herself. "Of course! Any help, Otacon—any help would be greatly appreciated!"

"Right then, I'll see you soon—maybe this Friday," he stood from the table and brought the used utensils to the sink. He had always been polite like that. Snake and Samus saw the man out. "Oh, and Samus, my real name is Hal Emmerich. I just thought you should know too."

Samus waved as Otacon turned the car around and drove towards the lane, heading back towards the town. She and Snake watched in silence until the lights vanished behind far-off spruce and pine trees, and the engine noise was gone. "Looks like you two became fast friends," he uttered suddenly. "Doctor Hal Emmerich—a real likable character." Samus said nothing but gifted him with her smile. For the first time, she began to feel more at home on a different planet, paradoxically sharing in the home of a stranger she was wary of sharing her life with. Snake returned her smile with his own. Then they returned to the cabin, side by side.

* * *

**A/N: Apologies that this took some time! Please let me know if any particulars are questionable or whatnot. Any feedback is well appreciated. ****On a different note, Otacon's roasted duck recipe can be found here: ** /honey-roast-duck-recipe/


	5. Rain, Nightmares, and Sleep

**_5_**

**Rain, Nightmares, and Sleep**

* * *

Samus found it difficult to get out of bed the morning after. The skies were shrouded in gray with dark clouds rolling directly overhead, promising of cold rain. The air surrounding her was humid to the touch, triggering goosebumps all over her skin. Samus snuggled the fuzzy covers closer to her body, wanting to linger just several minutes longer until she heard the sounds of some unfamiliar chattering coming from the floor below.

_More guests? _Samus asked herself. Could she have been wrong in assuming that Snake was "a lone wolf who cherished his isolation" and in turn, would only have quite a few friends?

Rain began to fall—a light sprinkle at first, tiny speckles of sounds on the roof. Gradually, it grew harder. A flash of lightning… a pause… then, a roar of thunder.

Samus grabbed a knitted cardigan that hanged on the back of the bedroom door, tied her hair in the usual manner, and made her way downstairs. As she crept her way down, she caught a glimpse of the mercenary in quite a ridiculously atypical form. Snake was wrapped in his own fuzzy blanket, eyes locked on the television, his coffee and a single expended cigarette sat pitifully on the ashtray.

"Good morning," she greeted as she walked over and sat next to him on the leather couch.

"Oh, hey. Morning," Snake said. "Sorry I didn't hear you come down. Want some coffee and breakfast?"

Samus shook her head. "No thanks, I'm not really hungry," she replied. Her attention moved to the television. She saw what appeared to be a young man trying to convince a lady from jumping off the balcony of a ship. This man was telling her that he'd have to jump in after her since he has no choice, even after the lady had called him absurd and mad. "Is this… the movie you rented from yesterday?"

"Yeah. Titanic," Snake said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"What's the story about?"

"You'll have to watch it yourself and find out."

Samus glanced at the grandfather clock. It was only about to turn nine o'clock. "All right then." She decided to pour herself a cup of coffee first before returning to her place next to Snake.

The pair were engrossed in the film, ignoring how the sky darkened a bit more and how the strong rain rode on the westerly winds as it whistled over the trees. Their cups of coffee had been untouched for the past hour, the previously searing liquid now lukewarm.

It was only until the love scene in the ship's harbor did the two seem to remember that they were in one other's company. Samus blushed fiercely at the scene, taking up the cup of cold coffee and sipping in the contents with a concealed disdain at the unsatisfactory temperature. Snake let out a low chuckle, his lips curling into a teasing smile.

"What?" Samus asked, trying to act casual and raising him a brow.

"Nothing," he said, smirk still intact. "I just wondered what made you suddenly drink your cold coffee."

"I… I don't like to waste," she replied, doing her best not to glance at him. She kept her gaze at the film, watching as Jack and Rose share a steamy and intimate moment. "I was just wondering how uncomfortable that would be… there clearly isn't enough space."

"Hmm… I wonder if that was an invite or if you're just genuinely curious."

"It was—!" Her eyes popped open when she suddenly realized what he meant. "You bastard. Are you going to keep silent or are you going to keep at your unnecessary remarks?"

Snake chuckled. "I wasn't the first one to talk, y'know."

"… Just shut up."

The film ended a few minutes past ten-thirty, and the weather remained in its sultry pouring state. Snake stretched out his arms and tossed aside the fuzzy blanket. Sighing, he made his way to the front porch outside and took out another cigarette. The smoke swirled upward and he could feel the humidity rising, thickening the air. To him, this weather was perfect for downtime and all he would ever need was a smoke and his dogs.

Samus watched Snake for a few moments before she folded the blanket and neatly placed it on the couch. She brought their cups to the sink and ensued to wash them. A deafening roar of thunder made itself heard once again, striking fear into the hearts of several forest creatures just outside the door. Yet it was not only these animals who were perturbed.

Samus' fingers gripped tightly on the mug, her eyes affixed on the porcelain handle in a blank stare. She was only six-years-old when she first heard those cruel roars of thunder and saw the blinding flashes of lightning. It was that day when the small community—her home, was attacked. There was no reason for such. Not for principles, values, or ideals. Only greed and selfish indulgence. Ridley… The space pirates… They took everything from her at such a tender age.

The sound of the rain softened and Samus finished the last of her chore. She trembled, yet not of the cold. The tears glistening in her eyes have fogged her vision.

"Hey, you okay?"

She wanted to turn around hastily and tell him that she was but she was frozen in her place. But as Snake's person approached her from behind, she felt an odd sense of ease and comfort.

"Hey…" he called again, even more softly this time, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You froze just after the thunder—like you've seen a ghost. Is everything all right?"

She smiled sheepishly. "Just a bad memory."

"It's… not the movie, is it?"

"Of course not."

Samus wiped the sink and counter dry, then sighed. She wondered if it was time for her to share her past… but could she _trust_ Snake?

_Trust_. Such a cumbersome word.

She knew she would be bearing a side of vulnerability to him—something so delicately sewed in her that could ultimately lead to her demise. Would he use it to salvage her? Would Snake have the heart?

Or… would he _save_ her?

Her mind made up, Samus lead them to the small round table where they habitually have their meals. Snake did have a proper dining area, but with only two people in the house and rarely any visitations, they preferred to make use of the more intimate space. Snake watched her settle herself in the seat, patiently expectant of the very personal stories she was to share. He wanted to pride himself that he got her to speak out, but the teasing and merriment would be for another time.

"The rain doesn't unsettle me—it is the lightning and the thunder," Samus began. "I was only six-years-old when my parents were taken from me… killed in front of my very own eyes. I was made to watch and I could still see—like a vivid picture painted in my memory—how the light has left their eyes." She spoke like an arrow shot by a master archer—resolute, straight, and true. There was little emotion in her voice, albeit her wavering eyes spoke her heart. "A group called the Chozo then found me. They took me under their care and raised me to become a warrior who would carry out their creed." Snake nodded, as if fully understanding her story despite the incredibly unusual terms and characters.

Samus continued, "Years after training my mind, body, and spirit, I became a bounty hunter. And although I often get contracts from the Galactic Federation—a government of some sorts, I made it a personal mission to seek vengeance and eradicate all space pirates and the creatures that threatened the galaxy."

"I see. You know, without bounty you'd be called a hero."

Samus gave him a small smile. "That's one way to put it."

Despite its subtlety, her smile sent Snake's pulse to rise. He mostly paid attention to her eyes, carefully watching how they glow like stars amidst the dullness of the room.

And as her smile made her eyes seem to almost light up, now, more than ever before, all Snake wanted to do was to comfort her… to pull her into a tight embrace… and to tell her she was brave.

"I'm sorry if I sounded so… melancholic," she hesitated to say the last word. "I'll just blame the weather for encouraging this mood."

"I actually kind of like the rain. It relaxes me," Snake said, earning a curious brow from her. "What? Why the face?"

"Nothing, I—it's not often that someone tells me that they like the rain."

There was a pause, yet one that was not heavy nor at all intimidating. They had found comfort in this silence, a relaxed ease, a gentle show of affection that need not words to express itself. At this moment of silence and reflection, Snake felt humbled by the profound connection that Samus graced him with.

Samus looked towards the backdoor, then further to the slippery muddy grounds just outside. "I want to spar." It didn't sound like a mere exclamation or request, more of a demand.

"Outside?" Snake questioned, amused.

"No… in the living room where all the furniture is."

Snake grimaced, "The sarcasm was uncalled for."

"Yeah, but I wanted to. Anyway, shall we?" Samus stood from her seat and approached the steel backdoor, a peculiar and secret excitement rushing through her veins. "Or are you scared of a little rain?"

* * *

Although the rain has not yet ceased, the pair were able to meet at a consensus that their day was anything but dreary. They watched a movie, they sparred, skipped lunch, cooked a lovely and hefty dinner out of their hunger from having skipped lunch, and simply talked about anything and everything over a glass of some fine-aged Pinot Noir—their exchange, lively if not profound.

It was past midnight and the rain mellowed down, like a child ready to be brought to bed. Samus offered to fix up but Snake hesitated, saying that he would handle it, and when Samus gifted him with another smile when she told him "goodnight", the smirking man gave himself a pat on the back for making a good call.

Snake couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed for what seemed like hours, and when his eyes still failed to remain shut, he sat up and ruffled his hair with a sigh.

He couldn't stop thinking about Samus. The way her eyes light up at the rare chance of a small smile… the way she carries herself when she speaks… how she fights as if she were dancing… her beguiling beauty hiding away past adversities that many would have never survived if they were in her place. She told him a lot today, one of which exposed the vulnerable side of her. This shook Snake to his core. If there was one thing he was so sure and steadfast about himself it was that he never cared, not even merely considered, to be a part of someone's else life. He was close… once, but never again.

He never thought nor expected that anyone at all in his life could make him think otherwise until she— a strange, beautiful woman who was not of this world he knew of—came along and made him actually think about their relationship... their bond… their _connection_.

The light rain muffled the sound of soft knocking against Snake's bedroom door. He stood from the bed and opened the door.

There she stood, the very woman who haunted his already perturbed mind. She was barefoot, dressed in her usual pajamas with eyes glued to the wooden floor. He could not fully see it, but her face was flushed and puffy as if she had been crying.

"I had a nightmare… can I come in?" Samus asked in a hushed voice, the slight hoarseness affirmed his guess that she may have cried.

"Yeah, of course." Snake took a step back as he pulled the door open for her to walk in. "Would you uh, like to talk about it?"

Samus shook her head. "Can I sleep here instead?"

"Oh! Uh," Snake scratched the back of his head, not expecting the request. "Yeah, sure. You take the bed and I could lay out a blanket on the floor and—"

"You take the bed," Samus cut him off. She grabbed a single feather pillow and walked to the edge of the bed.

"No, I won't let you do that Samus," Snake bickered, grabbing the pillow. "You sleep on the bed since you need it more than I do! You need better rest."

"But it's your bed! I have no right, I've done enough trouble disturbing your sleep and invading your personal space."

"And I'm saying it's fine! You take the bed!"

Samus grabbed the pillow from Snake's grip, dropped it to the floor, and wordlessly lay her tired head against it. Sleeping on the floor was terribly uncomfortable but her stubbornness would not have her hesitate to endure it.

Snake released a frustrated sigh. "Damn it, Samus." He took another pillow and some covers off the bed. He placed his own pillow next to her and covered her up before resting on the floor himself, mirroring how she slept on her side with his back against hers.

Samus exhaled slowly as she felt the subtle touch of his warm solid skin brush behind her. She pursed her lips into a thin smile and closed her eyes even tighter. He really was just as stubborn as she was—the sun could explode and die, and he wouldn't give one damn about it if it meant that he would not be having his way. Samus wanted to move away from his quiet touch, away from the comforting warmth of his presence, but simply could not find the urge to. She was too tired, after all; and maybe having him behind her back—literally, wouldn't be so bad.

_Maybe it would be kind of nice_.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**My apologies if this took later than most. This chapter was meant to be a filler before the next few series—an arc, supposedly, of the new mission in store for our heroes. It would be a challenge to write the dynamics between our two particular protagonists especially since they usually prefer to work alone. I hope you all will still stay tuned and I'd love to hear of your reviews. **


	6. The Mission

_"Old soldiers never die; they just fade away."  
_\- Douglas MacArthur

_**6**_

**The Mission**

* * *

The mission sounded simple and straightforward enough. Simple but not easy.

"It's going to be like infiltrating the tanker all over again," Otacon explained. "Get in, get the information needed, document the evidence, and get out. Philanthropy would be providing us with aerial transportation, but none more than that. That means no back-up and no weapons. Just me, you, and your many talents."

Snake scowled. "And they call themselves benefactors."

"We can't complain now, Snake. Besides, aren't we doing this for the greater good? For something beyond just ourselves and Philanthropy?"

The arrival of their comrade interjected their conversation. "Gentlemen, what are you working on that's so important you've both decided to skip the early morning joe?" Samus smiled at them warmly, placing two cups of brewed coffee on the small round table, which was filled with dozens of classified documents and files and had barely enough space for Otacon's laptop.

"Oh! Samus! No need for all this trouble, but thank you very much," Otacon beamed at her. Ever since he first met her just a few days ago, the engineer had grown quite fond of the bounty hunter. The two became fast friends—and, if it would seem relevant to say, was much to Snake's nonchalance.

Just that same morning, before it had even turned seven, Dr. Hal Emmerich came rushing into Snake's room only to find the mercenary and his lady friend uncomfortably snoozing on the floor. Her right arm and leg comically laid over his back as he slept on his stomach, drooling all over the floor. A million questions popped into Otacon's quizzical (and perhaps at their current state, malicious) mind, yet all he could comment was how the pair "looked as if they had been shot." After it was made clear that his abrupt entrance was unwelcomed—especially by Snake—Otacon could only jest that Snake should learn how to lock his bedroom.

A few minutes after those interesting series of events, Otacon explained that he had rushed over to Snake's cabin to inform him of the urgent mission their non-government organization, Philanthropy, was assigning them. They had finally received intel on the development of a new Metal Gear as well as the rise of the dodgy private militia known as "Praying Mantis".

"They've articulated everything into this report and you'd see that it's stated here, numerous times in fact, that this is going to be a _stealth _mission. We couldn't risk detection and give our enemies the upper hand."

Snake shook his head as he took one large gulp of his bitter coffee. "Regardless, there's reason to consider that they've prepared well for this. The prototype would be heavily guarded, and the data well-encrypted. I know Ocelot would be there—meaning, Liquid's bound to stick around too."

A brief silence permeated their small space. Otacon nodded slowly, furiously typing optimal ways of how they could operationalize their mission. "Do you remember Raiden, Snake?" he asked.

"Hmm… Raiden? Yeah, I do."

"Yes, Raiden. It just takes me back to Big Shell—I mean, our mission objectives are quite similar to the tanker and to Big Shell, so it would be a lot easier if we could find someone else to help you with this operation. My first guess was Raiden, but God knows where the heck that guy could be and what kinds of crap the _real_ Colonel Campbell has him doing."

"There's no need for that, Otacon. I could handle this myself," Snake assured him. "I always have."

"I know, Snake. This time though, it's different and I couldn't shake the feeling—"

"I could help." Samus' sudden suggestion caught both men off-guard, and while Otacon's lips curved into a favorable smile, Snake was not as fervent. This did not go unnoticed by Samus. "I know you told me before that this has nothing to do with me, Snake… But I want to help you and Otacon. Come on, let me help."

"This isn't your bounty hunter playtime, Samus," Snake growled. "I couldn't risk you distracting or slowing me down. Didn't you just hear Otacon? This is a stealth mission and you couldn't sneak around for your life!"

Samus peered at him menacingly. "You think me a child whose lifework is just for fun and games? I may have always worked alone as you do Snake, but I know what it's like to work with a partner and to work in a team. From my experience, I have never slowed down or distracted anyone." She stood from the table, glaring daggers at the mercenary. "You peg me for a rookie after everything I've shared with you? Such a man of insight you are."

She slammed the steel door the moment she could. Otacon winced as soon as it closed shut, then shook his head disagreeably. He looked at his comrade with tense eyes but was worried all the same. "Snake, you really didn't have to tell her that," he sighed.

"She had to hear it Otacon, or she wouldn't have given up," Snake said. There was remorse in his tone, enough to say that he felt apologetic, but he was resolute in his stance that Samus should not involve herself in their matters. Everything she told him yesterday did have an impact on him, yet in a way that both he and she wouldn't have expected. Thus, he didn't hope for her to understand. Everything she told him yesterday made him question his own beliefs… his own feelings. Years of being alone in the arctic had frozen his heart into the cold, war-hardened man he is at present. Only now, it was slowly being thawed by Samus Aran.

"Samus is a strong woman, Snake. Of all people, you should know that," Otacon argued. "Don't you see? With her wit and abilities, she could be a great asset to this mission!"

"She's… too important," Snake replied nonchalantly, not in the mood to argue. "She's not from this world, Otacon. It won't seem right to have her die in some damn different mission in some damn different planet with some damn different people."

Otacon nodded slowly. He had that peculiar look on his face that Snake knew all too well.

"What is it this time, Otacon?"

"Oh… I don't know, Snake," he said as he took a small sip of his sweetened coffee. "It's just that there are those times you wear your heart on your sleeve."

"Wha—?"

"Snake, look—I know you hate talking about feelings and that maybe you're still scarred from what had happened with Meryl…" Otacon paused as soon as he realized he had mentioned her name, and while Snake appeared unfazed, he continued with carefulness. "But that's all in the past. Anyhow, what I'm trying to say is that there's nothing wrong with opening your heart to someone again. I don't know what happens around when you and Samus are alone… maybe I wouldn't want to know—anyway, I'm digressing again—but I really think you should just be honest with your feelings, Snake."

Snake released a heavy sigh. "She talked to me yesterday, and what she said left me thinking about her… about me, and how much I really care about her."

Otacon's tired grimace slowly grew into a bright grin. Snake eyed him weirdly, he had never seen the good engineer beam up so radiantly. It was as if all the tiredness in his red eyes have been washed away.

"Oh, so I was right! I was so right! You do love her!" Otacon didn't even try to hide his elatedness.

"Yeah, Otacon. Go scream it outside so she could hear you better."

"Oh! Sorry, Snake," Otacon finally mellowed down. "I just got a little, um… excited there. So, when are you planning to tell her?"

Snake lit up a cigarette and put it between his lips. "Never. She doesn't need to know."

Otacon frowned. "But—!"

"It's not love, Otacon. Though I do care for her, deeply. It's not like I have plans of marrying her and raising a family. She isn't even from around here, remember? Look at me. I have nothing to offer her, Otacon… I could never be enough for her."

"Well if it's not love, it's a start then," Otacon smiled weakly. He stocked the papers neatly and put them aside. "You're not _nothing_, Snake. I think she sees that in you. But right now, perhaps the least you could offer her now is to accept her wish to join us. Come on, put your worrying ass aside. She is strong enough to protect herself—just as capable as you are."

"Fuck it. Fine! You're right," Snake dotted the cigarette butt on the ashtray to extinguish the light. "It's… all that I could give her anyhow."

Snake found Samus training outside, sparring against a wooden dummy. Her white cast was gone—replaced by white bandages she used for sparring—and her wrist had significantly, if not entirely, healed. She was bathed in her sweat, throwing a series of rage-fueled punches, her hair dancing along with the swift movements of her body. She was wearing some bright orange training gear he had never seen before—it showed off her strong lean midriff and those slender legs that were deceitfully solid. Snake had never seen her bear so much skin, and he needed a moment to overcome his distractedness before speaking to her.

"Samus," he called to her from a modest distance, and when she heard him, the upper half of the dummy detached after she gave it one last forceful kick.

"Uh, sorry—I'll replace that. Now what do you want?"

Snake rested down his folded arms. "Just… talk. I wanted to apologize for pissing you off earlier," he said. He watched her unravel the bandages from her hands and take heavy gulps of water from a tumbler. Why is it that everything she does—regardless of how mundane it is—have to make her look so beguiling?

"Otacon got you to apologize, didn't he?" she asked.

"No… I came here on my own."

Samus raised him a brow, smirking inwardly. "Oh, really now? Pray tell then, what got you to pull your head out of your ass?"

Snake grimaced at her. "Are we going to talk over this with you sounding like an asshole?"

"I will sound how I want to sound, Snake. I am not the one apologizing here."

"I was only concerned for your well-being, Samus. All right? Otacon just… helped me realize that I was too uneasy about it. He knows me well, and he—I know you enough to have considered that you are capable of handling yourself as much as I can."

Samus wiped the sweat off her temples down to her jawline, secretly satisfied at how Snake tried to stifle himself from ogling at her. "Well, again, I forgive you. Color me surprised to hear that you actually care for me—my well-being." She walked past him and brought a step to the door. "Brief me on this mission after a take a steamy shower, will you?"

He gave it a few minutes, and as soon as she was out from his line of sight, Snake finally released the long breath he had been holding.

* * *

Flying thirty thousand feet over the Caspian Sea, west of the Azerbaijan coast, Solid Snake and Samus Aran prepared for their HALO jump. Earlier, Samus asked what "HALO" meant and what it was for; Snake briefed her that HALO stood for "high-altitude, low-opening" and was standard for stealth missions into hostile regions.

"Time check—17:48, Azerbaijan Time. We'll be reaching thirty-two thousand feet in six minutes," Otacon called from his seat as co-pilot. "Opening the rear hatch. Position yourselves in four."

Samus could feel the warmth of the late afternoon haze as soon as the heavy metal doors of the helipad opened, the visor of her integrated ballistic helmet was painted a golden tone. "Sunset," she muttered to herself.

"External temperature—minus twenty degrees Celsius," the pilot notified the team via intercoms.

"Two minutes to drop-off. Please move to the rear," Otacon added. "You'll be diving at about a hundred and thirty meters per hour. Try not to get frostbite from the wind chill."

Snake led them to the edge where they were about to jump. "Nervous?" he asked.

Samus smirked from her helmet. "Was going to ask if you the same thing."

The sun was setting fast, and the stiff breeze was getting colder. Snake gave Samus one last firm nod—a simple gesture that she could've interpreted in multiple ways. She returned with that of her own.

"One minute to drop-off."

The two stood securely in place, feet apart in a balanced posture to keep them from tumbling at the turbulence.

"Ten seconds to drop-off. All systems functional. Everything is a-okay."

The sea below was calm, as if waiting patiently to welcome them. Their targeted landing, however, was not the sea but the behemoth fort that stood on the cliffs, a proud beacon of what could have been an ancient kingdom.

"This is it, guys. Five seconds to drop-off… Four… Three… Two… One…" Otacon smiled through his line. "Do not lose hope—I learned that from Naruto."

Snake shook his head and obliged to take the first jump, arms and legs spread out like wings. In a matter of seconds, Samus followed suite. It was a smooth fall for the first few minutes, and even after they had both opened up their parachutes. The landing was a bit tricky for Samus since she was not used to gliding, but she managed to land on the pebble beach just a few meters from the cliffs.

She tapped on her bracelet which she updated to complement Snake's nanomachines as means for their communications. "Snake, you there? I've landed on the beach just by the cliffs. I could climb just behind the fort and meet you at the rendezvous point."

_"I read you. Sure—I'll meet you inside the tower. One guard is standing by so you better be careful."_

Samus grinned. "That won't be a problem. Give me just a minute." After ending the call, she stripped off her skydiving gear to reveal her Zero Suit—only in a jet-black variation to enhance her stealth. The glowing insignia had also been dimmed down. She strapped her paralyzer on the right thigh and began her ascent on the slippery cliffs.

It was much easier to climb the rocky surface of the abandoned fort, and as soon as she made it to the top, she silently assassinated the watchful guard by grabbing on to his leg and pulling him to fall to his death. With acrobatic grace, she swung her body to reach the top and briefly scanned the area. There were armed guards everywhere—approximately about three hundred of them, just outside the courtyard. These guards didn't appear "normal" to her, and Samus could discern from the way they carried themselves that these men have had specialized training.

She dialed Snake once more.

_"Samus, what's your position?"_

"I've reached the top of the tower just by the cliffs. There are guards everywhere, Snake. About a hundred of them. I don't think I could make it to our rendezvous through the courtyard—I'm going to have to go inside."

_"No need. I'm heading towards the tower. Just try to stay hidden until we meet."_

Samus gave off a relieved sigh. "Duly noted, _sir_." She giggled a bit to herself after addressing him as such. After the brief conversation, she jumped inside a small opening she had spotted while climbing the tower. She could hear chattering—two men at most, one of them expressing his qualm that anyone else would be intruding their hideout and complaining of how there were about a hundred of them and only a handful of food and other resources.

"All this security for one guy? Must be some motherfucking Jason Voorhees." His voice gradually grew louder, and she pinned her back against the wall, ready to dispose of him in any means necessary. The sound of the footsteps eventually stopped, and an unnerving silence followed. Samus brought out her paralyzer and waited. When she heard the floor creak under the pressure of a meticulous step, she swiftly moved away from the wall, revealing herself with her paralyzer aimed towards the head of the man.

"S-Snake?! God! Please don't scare me like that!" Samus scolded, withdrawing her weapon.

Snake's lips curled slightly. "I told you I'd meet you up here, didn't I? Sorry if I took a while. Hope you didn't miss me too much."

Samus wanted to roll her eyes up to the back of her head. "So, what's the plan now? There are about a hundred armed guards around and I'm certain they've been expecting your arrival."

"Revolver Ocelot—let's just say he's old and unfriendly and wants my ass dead—has control of this place." He placed a hand under his chin and walked over the knocked-out guards, seizing their weapons. "Knowing him, he'd be lurking around some room where he could oversee everything."

"Like a master control room?"

"Exactly."

It need not a minute for the two to wordlessly agree on a consensus of what the next phase in their mission was. "Do you have any idea where that room could be?" Samus asked.

"Yeah. There's another tower across with a satellite dish attached to the flagpole. Guess they couldn't make it any more obvious than that," Snake replied.

"Any idea how we could get there?"

"Hmm…" Snake glanced outside the window and observed two guards carrying metal crates towards a narrow alley-like opening. "I don't—but maybe they do."

Samus paused for a moment. "So, tail those guards, find and interrogate Ocelot, and retrieve highly confidential data on Metal Gear and Praying Mantis … I like this mission."

Snake gave her a smirk. "If you do well enough, maybe then I wouldn't feel so bad for bringing you along."

"Shouldn't I be the one feeling bad to have you as my partner?"

Considering the work that had to be done, Snake ignored the remark and led them to an empty mezzanine where they could scope the room. The fort appeared to have aged nicely, the wood that framed the floors and ceilings like a skeleton was very sturdy, and the rock walls were more than sufficient to prevent the structure from collapsing shall the hostile sea waves crash against it. Snake held up a hand and pointed towards the chandeliers. "The guards are just on the other side. We can sneak our way across by jumping on those chandeliers."

"Those rusty metals don't look like they could hold that much weight to me," Samus warned.

"That's why we're going one at a time—and you're going first. You're swifter and lighter."

Samus wanted to protest, but she knew it would just lead to another futile and petty argument. From the ledge of the mezzanine, she leaped towards the first chandelier with cat-like grace, her light and careful movements prevented any big swings. She crept over to the side where she could make another jump, and upon seeing the second chandelier, repeated the set of movements. The second chandelier was much closer to another ledge, and it didn't bring her much difficulty to make the leap.

As soon as she was safely on the other side, Snake repeated her movements, and though he was not as agile as Samus, he was just as adept. It didn't take two minutes until he was able to reach her.

Peering through a broken window, they almost immediately spotted the two guards carrying the metal crates. One glance and a silent nod were all words they needed in cue to jump from one roof to the next, hang on the ledge, then down to the ground. All this done swiftly, silently, and discreetly.

Samus turned to face her partner. "There's a checkpoint up ahead. I'll deal with those guards. You keep tailing those men with the crates." She ran to the right and hid behind a pile of boxes, scaling the small space for a good angle to target the soldiers who were guarding the path towards the tower entrance. One guard caught sight of her, and before he could yell out to her, she equipped her whip and lunged it around the man's neck. The guard choked, arms flailing as he desperately gasped for air, as Samus pulled him towards her. When he was mere inches from her, she forcefully pinned him down in a swift motion, hushing him for a long while.

Snake hid behind a blockade as he kept a close watch of the soldiers. They spoke to the tower guards for a while before trudging on forward towards their destination. The moment they moved past the guards, Snake dialed Samus through the nanomachines. "Samus, they're on the move. It's showtime."

The guard on the left was the first one to fall, and before his companion could even react, Samus grabbed him from behind and knocked him cold.

Snake ran to Samus the moment the coast was clear. "I take it back when I said you couldn't sneak around."

"I am a keen observer," she smirked. "Plus, I have a role-model."

Though the exchange was brief—since they had a mission to attend to and they could not afford to lose sight of their targets—Snake and Samus delighted in the small bliss they felt. It wasn't romantic, it wasn't impartial. It could be, somehow, a more profound sense of philia that affirmed their budding relationship.

The two trailed on ahead, ready to face the next phase in their mission.

As soon as the heavy doors shut behind them, Samus made quick work of the guards, the metal crates dropping to the floor with a crash. A man, garbed in deep red robes and cowboy boots with hair white as volcanic ash, turned around slowly as if unstartled by the deafening sound. Intriguingly, he wore a black glove over his left hand—yet not on his right.

"So you did come, as I have expected Solid Sn—" The moment Revolver Ocelot turned around, he was met with a blonde woman in a skin-tight suit. Not at all who he was expecting. "Oh my apologies, I was expecting someone else."

"I'm here, Ocelot."

Ocelot heard the crisp sound of a gun unlock from behind him. Snake gripped the pistol firmly, his aim securely pointed just mere inches to the old man's left hemisphere.

"Ah! Yes, Snake. I knew you would come. You… who could never resist to miss out on information as tempestuous as to whatever is relative to _Metal Gear_."

"Cut the bullshit, Ocelot," Snake snapped at him. "Where are the plans for the prototype? What does Praying Mantis have to do with this?"

Ocelot chuckled grimly. "Oh, why so snippy? I was hoping you could humor me a bit. Who is this lovely creature with you? Another agent from Philanthropy, I suppose?"

"I'm not an agent nor am I working with Philanthropy. I came here on my own," Samus said as she carefully watched the man. He had an air of pride and confidence around him, not even bothering to raise his hands even if Snake had a loaded gun pointed to his head. Perhaps this man and Snake had some history.

Ocelot nodded his head slowly. "Ah, I see. Whatever reason it is that you are here then, my dear, I would assume it has something to do with this… mercenary. He has a way of bringing women to such dangerous places."

"Ocelot! Answer the damn questions!" Snake was getting impatient, enunciating every word. He closed the gap between the pistol and his head, threatening him with the cold metal exterior that would come with a most fatal shot.

"Haven't you been listening to me, Snake?! I lured you here! This fort was a setup! The plans are kept elsewhere—a secret location that even I have no such indication of." A brief sense of shock made Snake shelve his guard, and Ocelot immediately took this chance to disarm the man and violently push him against the wall. Samus rushed towards Ocelot for an attack but was shot on the thigh. She rolled to the side against some heavy barrels, biting her tongue to preclude herself from screaming as the bullet tore and burned through her suit and into her flesh.

The sound of the gunshot roused up Snake. "Samus…" he muttered, dizzied, as he tried to slowly stand up. He managed to dial Otacon, sending him an _SOS._ "Otacon… Samus… shot. Plans—not here…"

Just then, several armed guards entered the room. "Sir Ocelot! We heard a shot. Are you all right, Sir?"

Revolver Ocelot dismissed his quarry with a wave of his hand. "I'm fine. I have found our intruders. Lock them up and see to it that Metal Gear RAY is prepared for departure. I'll deal with them momentarily."

"Yes, sir!"

Samus tried to fight the approaching men with what little strength she had, only to earn herself a painful blow to the back of her head. Snake yelled her name as he watched the men carry her outside, only to be clouted unconscious himself.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Here's some an action-adventure moment for you all. Segueing a bit from the usual locations of Metroid and Metal Gear games, this setting takes place in an old abandoned fort cornering towards the Caspian Sea. I was hoping it would bring something fresh to the plate. On a side note, Otacon quotes something from Major Tom from the time he first spoke to Big Boss about his HALO jump in MGS 3.**

**The next arc would entail something quite interesting… Revolver Ocelot's interrogations. That's his specialty, anyway. **

**Please let me know how you're finding the story! Any thoughts or feelings you'd like to share? Please review!**


	7. Interrogations

**_7_**

**Interrogations**

* * *

Ice water poured over him, scalding his wounds and exposed flesh. He gasped violently when he awakened as if his lungs had stopped working for some time. A Hessian sack was placed over his head, and his wrists dangled from rusty iron chains, holding his person up against the cobblestone wall. He focused his vision on anything he could see through the sack, although it seems it would not matter since darkness had consumed the room.

"Wake up."

The voice was soft and yet, stimulating. It did not belong to old man Ocelot, albeit it was, unfortunately, familiar to him. Liquid Snake's words were faint and muffled, and Solid Snake sensed were not directed to him.

"Who… W-what do you want?"

It was Samus' voice this time. He was right—but hoped that he wasn't. Her voice was hoarse yet bold and crisp in its resonance. He admired her fighting spirit; though, he could do not much now but pray that she was all right… that she was faring better than he was. _Was she held up on chains like I am?_ _Did they splash freezing water on her too?_ His questions would be answered in a few, and Snake kept at his silence as he listened further.

"I just have a few questions for you… I would like to know you better." Snake could feel Liquid's sneering.

"Whoever the hell you are, I have nothing to say to you," Samus seethed.

"But of course, my dear… everyone has something to say! Perhaps, you just need the right push."

Two soldiers took the sacks off Snake and Samus' heads. They slightly winced at the soft light of the torches, and after recovering their vision, found that they were faced against one another. Their hands were chained up to the ceiling, hovering their persons from the ground; and their backs were pressed against the cold moist stonewall. Their weapons and gear were taken from them, stripped away into the vulnerable state they were in now.

Samus fixated her gaze at the old man. It was the same man from earlier—the one who was introduced as Revolver Ocelot. But something about him was oddly repulsive. His gloved arm was now bare, revealing the green mutilated hand of his with purplish varicose veins threatening to burst out. The old man had an evil glint in his eyes, a trait she knew of characters who should never be trusted.

"I believe we have yet to be acquainted. I am Liquid Snake, the twin brother of this man you know of as Solid Snake," Liquid spoke with an unpleasant air of confidence as he toyed with Ocelot's small antique pistol. "I have a few questions for you both, and perhaps we shall start with the easier ones. Care to guess where you are?"

"Some sort of dungeon?" Snake answered for them.

Liquid expertly twirled the revolver around his fingers, a habit he could not even recall when it first began—or from whom he had learned it from. The pistol was a gift from the old man's friend—a man he idolized for years and whom, until now, still does. "That's right," he nodded to the mercenary. "This is the dungeon of Fort Al Salem. Quite a pitiful place to die and be forgotten if you ask me."

Samus glared daggers at the man. "What do you want?"

Liquid, through Ocelot's eyes, spared her a glance, slow and menacing in his approach. "Ah, yes! As I've said so earlier, I just wanted to know you better. Why have you come here?" He walked towards Snake, pointing the gun against the man's temple. "Was it to aid this wretch of a man? Hmm? Did he force you to go with him?"

Samus said nothing. She knew that any sign of emotional affection for the man would render them even more susceptible.

"Perhaps if not by force… then, is it love?"

Though it killed her inside, Samus remained indifferent. "I don't believe in love. I simply owe the man a profound debt."

Liquid withdrew the gun, smirking bizarrely to himself. He nodded his head continuously as he paced about the cobblestone room. Even the soldiers who kept guard felt uneasy around his presence.

"Not _love_ but a _debt_…" he muttered. "Interesting."

Liquid stopped his pacing and turned to face Snake. "What say you, brother? You know, this woman is far better than the last one. Gutsier… feistier… and not to mention, quite an enchanting beauty. Wouldn't you agree?"

Grumbling, Snake avoided his gaze. He remained quiet, unsure whether it was Liquid's or Samus' words that beleaguered him more.

"Well, isn't anyone going to talk?!"

Liquid grew impatient of having to wait for decent and direct answers, beckoning his men to land painful blows to Snake's abdomen. As if that was not enough, he slapped the edge of the gun against the man's face, bruising his left cheek. The mercenary hung his head low and spat out blood, the metallic taste lingering on his tongue.

Samus felt her throat go dry. She wanted to run to him, to wipe the blood away, and to punish those who hurt him… but she couldn't. She cursed the soldiers, she cursed Liquid, she cursed her own feelings. He was right—Liquid was right. She only needed the right push.

"Stop!" she cried out. "You don't have to hurt him! I've told you already I came here on my own! I came here to help him because I owe him my life."

When Snake looked up at Samus, he saw the sorrowful gaze she sent. He saw the pain in those glistening eyes, and he just wanted to give her a smile. It was pain she harbored for him, and he was happy to believe that she did, even if 'Twas at the smallest ounce, care for him.

Samus wanted to cry when she saw how Snake looked at her. _He was right… I was just going to slow him down—no, it's worse. I put his life in danger… and after all the kindness he has shown me, this is how I repay him…_

"Oh, my dear, if only you knew," Liquid spoke up, unknowingly disrupting a tender moment. "Every person who tries to help Solid Snake ends up in the most unfortunate of circumstances. Death is not even the worst! Oh, and before I do forget… did you tell her about Meryl Silverburgh, brother?"

Just then, another soldier approached Liquid and handed him a sealed letter. Immediately recognizing the signature at the back, the man hurriedly opened the envelope, careful not to tear through the paper. His eyes quickly and silently read through the text, then he exhaled. "Forgive my abrupt leave, but I am needed elsewhere at the earliest convenience. It has something to do with… father." He sheathed his pistol and snapped a finger. "Prepare RAY for departure. Leave these two here. May they find the peace they seek."

Liquid marched out the dungeon. The echoes carried his heavy steps, the clicks of the cowboy boots, and the last of his words.

* * *

"Snake… Snake, I'm so sorry," Samus forced herself to say. "You were right—I was nothing more than a burden."

She couldn't read him in the darkness. He has been silent for some time, even after Ocelot had left about several minutes ago. She worried that he was infuriated with her or that he was blaming himself for everything that has happened. However, she worried most for having conceivably strained the simple connection she found with him she had grown to be so protective of.

"It… It isn't your fault, Samus…"

His voice shot out like a beacon—a soothing light that eased her. She could tell he was right in front of her and wondered, _was he in as much pain as I am? What could they have done to him?_

"Snake. Let's be reasonable. If I didn't get shot—"

"Don't blame yourself, Samus. This could've had happened with or without you… and things—things would have been worse without you."

Samus watched as her breathing slowed down to a more comfortable and more natural pace. She couldn't help but wonder why Snake had that calming effect on her. It was in his presence—in his words. She shook the emotions of pity and self-blame off her head and focused on the present predicament. She was a damn bounty hunter for goodness' sakes, and she's escaped stickier situations than this!

"You're right, Snake. Let's find a way out of here," she nodded to him with a determined sparkle in her eyes.

Snake beamed a bit. "Now, that's the Samus Aran I know."

"So, any leads on how we could get out of these chains?"

"Both men who were left to guard us each have keys. I was somehow conscious enough earlier to see them lock us against this wall. I'm just not so sure how we could lure them inside…"

Samus smirked at him. "Consider it done." The woman rattled her chains to create just enough noise to get the guards' attention. "Hey! Hey, you two out there! I need to go to the ladies' room. You wouldn't allow a woman to do such things in front of a male prisoner now, would you?"

The rusty bars of the dungeon slid open, and Samus instantaneously slipped on her alluring persona. "You know, I could think of a million ways to treat you if you escort me," she purred. "You must have been very lonely out here in this place."

Snake wondered what made him gulp on impulse. Of course, he knew precisely what kind of show Samus needed to put up, but _hot-damn_ did she have to act that way in front of him with another guy? He dropped his head and kept his eyes to the ground, grumbling to himself.

"I, uh…"

Samus had the guard hypnotized. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer. "What I meant to say was… these chains are really hurting me," she whispered huskily. The guard fished out the key and unlocked her left hand. The moment she heard the chain clink against the wall, she sent snatched the key from his grip and sent a chopped blow to his neck, knocking him out cold. She released her right hand and landed down clumsily. The bullet wound on her thigh—though seemingly given some significant aid by Ocelot and his men while she was unconscious—still hurt like hell.

The moment her feet touched the ground, the second guard checked in. Alerted, he held up his gun to shoot her but was disarmed by a swift kick and rendered unconscious by a painful follow-up to the face.

"That was quite the show," Snake commended but with not as much enthusiasm. Samus released him from his chains, picked up the men's guns, and handed him one.

"I was expecting you'd ask for an encore. Now, where's Otacon?"

"The last time I've checked with him, he said he would be waiting at the top of the tower near the cliffs—the tower you first headed in." Snake answered. "Then, we'll have to make a jump from there."

"Sounds like fun. I'm assuming we'll have to force our way through?" asked Samus, tucking away a stray strand of hair.

Snake smirked. "Uh-huh. Sounds like fun."

The stars above shone brightly against the cloudless midnight sky. Samus tore her glance away from it as she dodged another bullet shot from the soldier, only for the man to be assassinated from behind. Snake withdrew the bowie knife from the soldier's body and cast him aside. Samus nodded in thanks to her partner.

Twelve men dead. Only about a few more dozens to go.

The first priority was to locate their gear. Snake was confident they would find those locked away in the master control room where they initially encountered Ocelot—or Liquid. The pair rushed on their way back up the inclined path to the tower.

They made short work of two more men guarding the entrance, not taking them more than two minutes to locate their suits and their weapons.

"I'll miss seeing you run around like that," Snake uttered, his back turned against the woman.

Samus raised a brow at the wild comment. "Were you always this way with women, Mr. Solid Snake?"

Snake sent her a sly smile. "Only when I want to be."

Samus could only roll her eyes as she zipped up the black Zero Suit. She felt comfortable being in its familiar fit, more especially so she wouldn't be stared at by some soldiers and the particularly candid mercenary. "I haven't had a good hand-to-hand in days. This would be a good exercise," she said, picking up her paralyzer.

"Right. You only enjoy yourself when you're fighting me," Snake remarked. He tied his signature bandana and reloaded his favorite Mk23 SOCOM pistol. "But, you'll get a lot more action fighting two to three men at a time."

Her hair tied, Samus was ready to exit the room. She glanced at Snake with a teasing glint in her eye and beckoned him towards the door. "Ladies first?"

As they had anticipated, the soldiers had been informed of their escape and were all on the high alert. Several men had stationed themselves at the open courtyard while most scattered in search of them. At a rough estimate, Snake could make out that about no less than thirty men were blocking their way to their destination point.

"Fifteen to one. How do those odds sound to you?" Snake asked as they crept behind the thick bushes.

"It shouldn't be a problem…" Samus replied confidently until she spied about three men stationed behind cannons. "But those might. I'll sabotage the cannons while you create a diversion." She gave Snake a nudge and made her exit before he could even utter a response.

Samus crept her way to the higher areas where the cannons were situated. Stealth has never really been her forte, but after having observed Snake and after operationalizing some of the tips and tricks he had given her, it was as if she had been a spy all her life.

_Cannon one_. One soldier stood watch, his back faced to her. _Lucky me_, Samus smirked to herself. From the bushes where she hid, she sent a blast from her paralyzer and hit the target right where she wanted. The soldier cried out in pain, alerting one of his comrades who was stationed by the second cannon.

"Shit!" Samus cursed as the second soldier yelled upon seeing her person. She set the paralyzer into the plasma whip and flung it to disarm the man just before he could shoot. On instinct, he lunged himself and threw a punch. Samus dodged and grabbed his arm, twisted it, and threw him with a followed spin kick to the stomach. Seeing that the soldier is no longer able to fight, she hurried to the cannons and sabotaged each one.

_Two down, one to go. _The third cannon, oddly, was left unguarded. "What the—where the hell is the guard?" Her question was answered as a blast was heard from below—down the courtyard. She climbed up a roof and witnessed the 'diversion' she instructed her partner to operationalize. "Snake, you mad bastard," she sniggered to herself and proceeded to sabotage the last cannon.

Solid Snake dodged another punch with a snarky grin plastered on his face. Normally, he took missions such as these quite seriously, but he couldn't help but enjoy himself this time. Reconnaissance always required him to be sneaky and stealthy, so it was a breath of fresh air—an _exhilarating_ breath of fresh air—to be out brawling over fifteen men.

One man grabbed him from behind, holding him in place. Two men were ready to hit him the second he was vulnerable, but just before Snake could counter, the weight on his back disappeared. Samus had pulled the men with her plasma whip, acrobatically slid under him, and pinned the two others to the ground. Adrenaline rushed through their veins as they attacked, dodged, countered, and parried. Samus and Snake were at the top of their game. They would be lying if they didn't admit that they were having some ounce of fun. With one last kick to the diaphragm, Samus landed the final blow—the last soldier has fallen.

Snake and Samus glanced at one another, breathing heavily as sweat poured down their faces like melting ice. Huge grins were painted on their faces, and the pair shared a laugh. They kept at their merriment as they made their way to meet up with their worried comrade.

* * *

Worried was an understatement. Otacon was furious that they had compromised the stealth mission, yet deeply relieved and grateful his friends were alive. "What the hell were you two thinking!?" was what he had instantly roared the moment they climbed on the helicopter. "This was a damn stealth mission! Now, what the hell am I supposed to report to the director?"

Snake rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry so much about it. Thanks for getting us out of here, Otacon."

"Snake, I'm serious here! This is no time for fun and games." Otacon took off his glasses and sighed heavily to himself. "Your lives were at stake for Christ's sake."

"Otacon, we're—it's not Snake's fault," Samus spoke in a low voice that, at the least, soothed the engineer's frustrations. "If I weren't captured, then none of those would've happened. Snake was—he was flawless in this mission." She doubted if she had made a careful choice of her words. It would matter little, anyhow.

"It's no one's fault, Samus," Snake defended her, leaning against the wall, repressing himself from pulling out a cigarette from one of his pockets.

Otacon stood. "What's done is done. I'm just really glad you're both safe."

"Hm. Since when were you ever so worried about me, Otacon?"

"Every damn mission, Snake. Because every damn mission you take pulls one leg to the grave, and you know that!" In their relationship, Otacon had always been like the younger brother—the one who watches in awe as their older brother gets to climb up a tree or gets to drive a car first. Snake almost always called the shots, and if he were unsure, then he'd ask Otacon. In turn, Otacon would wait and listen, then relay any relative instruction. But as the years passed, and as the mercenary and the engineer have grown closer, it was becoming harder to discern who was the 'younger' or the 'older' brother.

Samus gave the bespectacled man a tiny yet reassuring smile. "I think Snake and I learned our lesson, Otacon. We promise never to compromise the mission again—"

"Unless we have to."

Samus sent Snake a warning glance, which he dismissed with a mere shrug. "We aren't soldiers anymore, Samus. Remember?"

The woman looked at her hands, then to Otacon, and after a brief pause, to Snake. "Right," she mumbled. Even Otacon seemed to agree, firmly nodding his head before retreating to his seat as the co-pilot.

Silence peered through the corners of the helicopter's rear. Snake kept his eyes glued to the floor while Samus' would wander about the peculiar details of the aerial vehicle. For her, the monochromatic palette made everything look… boring. Whoever designed this machine had no taste whatsoever. She giggled to herself at the petty thought, and Snake crunched a brow.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Oh, uh… nothing. Don't mind me."

Neither said a word after that, and the quietness returned once more. Snake sighed. Not willing to wait any longer, he took out a thin white cigarette from his breast pocket and put it in his mouth. Samus watched him with keen interest as he lit up the smoke.

"What? You've seen me smoke before."

"I'm just curious," Samus said, a bit embarrassed from having been caught staring. "How it… tastes… like."

"Don't tell me you don't have any cigarettes on your home planet," Snake paused a bit. "Do you?"

"We do. Of course, I've just never tried it myself. I used to think it was gross, but every time I see you do it, I couldn't help but just wonder…"

To her surprise, Snake stood from where he sat and moved to sit next to her. He handed her the small white stick, and she just gave him a bewildered gaze. This close, he could see how those deep green pools could shift to blue. "Just one puff. It's bad for you," he told her.

Samus narrowed her eyes at him as she took the stick between two fingers and hesitantly brought it up her lips. The smell immediately pierced through her nostrils, and she wanted to throw it away, but curiosity got the best of her. Didn't she want to know how it would _taste _like? She centered the cigarette into her soft lips and felt Snake's eyes slowly follow her movements. He was so close to her. The tension between them was almost too palpable.

She gave it one puff—and almost immediately coughed forcefully. She returned the cigarette to Snake as he gently rubbed her back. "What the—why do you like that shit so much?" Her eyes began to water a bit, and the man didn't even stifle himself from sniggering.

"It takes some getting used to," he said. "Smoking relaxes me. That's why I always carry at least one pack around. Kind of like a good luck charm too." Samus recovered from her coughing. She agreed when he told her that it was an acquired habit—more especially so, with how it tastes.

She tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear, wondering if she had anything else to say. There had always been that undeniable, latent, line between them—that only seemed to strengthen every time they shared an intimate space. Samus didn't know if Snake felt it too, and if he did, perhaps he would have a better idea of whatever the hell it was. She had an answer but wasn't just quite sure.

For sure, there was tension. Yet one Samus had never encountered before with anyone in her life—not with Adam, not with Anthony—and she had attributed it to the times when she had nothing else to say.

"So, have you satisfied your curiosity?" he asked, putting the smoke back into his mouth.

Samus held on to the edge of the seat, her pinky finger subtly making contact with Snake's leg. "Not exactly," she answered. Those little gestures spoke volumes to the mercenary, but he wasn't just quite sure yet how he should react. Her voice was a little more than a whisper, albeit it was loud to the listener's heart.

Snake wanted to play around a bit more. "You're… not satisfied?"

Samus gently shook her head. "No…" She angled her body to face his. "I wasn't satisfied."

He mirrored her position, inadvertently, inching closer. "What can I do?"

In his experience, strong-willed women who wanted something would often take the less subtle route—they would tell him, show him, or even go as directly as force him. This woman, however, was like a slow burn. Like velvety red wine pouring down his throat, warming him to his core until he is intoxicated completely.

"Help me… get used to it," Samus muttered. She watched as Snake's eyes would shift glances from her face and to her lips.

Until, eventually, he locked his gaze on her soft pink lips.

Samus thought her heart would pound out of her chest. The air surrounding them grew tight, and feeling as if the center of gravity fell to the space between them, leaned in even closer. Samus felt her eyes draw into a close…

"Hey, you guys! Only fifteen minutes 'til landing!" Otacon's voice exulted through the speakers, startling the two.

Samus leaned back against the wall as she tried to control her breathing. Before she could say anything, Snake was already back in his old seat, smoking in silence as he avoided her gaze. She felt a lump in her throat.

_What the hell just happened?_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**From this moment forth, I'm quite sure you all can expect that there may be some "more mature" adult-related themes that would be coming along. Hence, I will be changing the Rating from T to M—just to be safe (and to adhere to policies). Reader discretion is advised, albeit I am very much encouraging you all to keep in touch with this story. Please leave a review! **


	8. Whispers and Thrills

_**8**_

**Whispers and Thrills**

* * *

**_Author's Note_: This chapter may contain some sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.**

* * *

_Sweet love, sweet love_  
_Trapped in your love_  
_I've opened up, unsure I can trust_  
_My heart and I were buried in dust_  
_Free me, free us_

\- Bound to You, Christina Aguilera

In all her life, Samus had never found the rain to be so riveting. Such always came with thunder and lightning… thunder and lightning _always_ came with painful memories.

A few days passed since the mission in Azerbaijan. Samus still felt a bit of pain on her thigh, though it stung significantly less. The moment they returned to Snake's cabin, Otacon promised that he would stay and assist in nursing them back to full recovery. The man reminded her of her friends back at the federation, especially Anthony Higgs. What she wouldn't give to see him alive and well again.

Samus roused just as a soft knock came from her bedroom door. Though she took the effort to leisurely climb off her bed to open the door, the guest took the prerogative of allowing himself in. Otacon gave her an affectionate smile as he placed a bowl of chicken soup and orange juice on her bedside.

"Thought I'd just drop by to give you your breakfast. Sorry if I didn't brew coffee. Wouldn't want you to be jumpy when you're still getting better," he grinned at her.

"Thank you, Hal," Samus said before taking a sip of the refreshing citrus drink. While the rain provided her an ounce of comfort, she thought that some company would do her much better. "How's Snake? I haven't seen him for days. I'm worried about him."

"Snake? Oh, _psh_! That old dog has a lot of fight in him. Don't you worry about him." He dismissed her concern with a wave. "He actually headed out just a few minutes ago. Wonder if he's planning to do some hunting—"

"And he didn't bother to tell me?" Samus shot Otacon a heated glance, even if her annoyance clearly wasn't directed towards him.

"Could be that he wanted to be alone…? He'd tell you if he wanted you to come. You two seem pretty close."

Samus brought the drink back to her lips, hoping it would cover up the light blush on her cheeks. She tried to remember the last conversation she had with him. _We were on the aerial vehicle… he sat next to me, and I tried to smoke his cigarette… then he leaned closer, and I swore he would—!_

Samus splattered some of her juice on the floor as she began coughing violently. Otacon yelped before rubbing her back. "Wha—what's… are you all right, Samus?" Concern painted his eyes. "Was it—was it something I said?"

"No… I'm… fine. Really, I'm fine." She raised a hand and gently pushed him aside. She placed the drink back on the tray and stood from the bed. "I'll mop this mess up. Sorry about that, Hal."

"It's all right! Let me know if you need any help," Otacon offered as he escorted her to the door. Samus reassured the man that she was fine, but Otacon mentioned that he just wanted to make sure. She was his new friend, after all. Plus, Snake would have his head if she got hurt.

"Why couldn't Snake be as nice and chivalrous as you?" Samus chortled.

"He's his own man. He may be rough on the outside but on the inside—"

"He's as kind and caring as any other person I would call a good friend."

"Huh, yeah—uhm, good friend. Well… given his upbringing and the nature of his erm… career, it shouldn't be surprising that Snake is the type to push people away whenever they get too close." Otacon's words were like a reminder to her of the last time she ever spoke to him—or even saw him.

"Otacon…back at the helicopter…" she began, taking his hand into hers. "I don't know if I—" She watched as Otacon's tired blue eyes followed hers as he listened intently.

"Did… did something happen between you and Snake?" he probed gently. Otacon led them to the small round table they all grew familiar with.

"Yes and no. It's pretty funny actually—I tried to smoke his cigarette, but when he leaned in, I felt that he was going to…"

"…going to kiss you?" Otacon asked softly, although he could no longer hide the grin he tried to hold back.

Samus nodded, wondering if she should be wincing. "But nothing happened! The next thing I knew, he was back in his seat. Like, nothing just…fucking happened!" She scolded herself for swearing but knew that it couldn't be helped. She couldn't understand him—that _aspect_ of him. Samus thought she knew what he wanted from her, and could've given it because, deep within, she knew—and she accepted—that she was falling for him.

Otacon withdrew his hand from Samus' loose grip and massaged his temple. "Ugh God, here we go…" he muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Snake has a hard shell—so hard that it developed reflective properties which, in turn, makes him push people away. I've told him before that this self-isolation could be helpful but sometimes… not so helpful. I'm not his therapist, so I have no intention of changing him if I didn't have the means or the power to," Otacon laughed to himself. "So, naturally, when you came along, and I saw how you two damaged souls perfectly fitted the gap in each other's life, I believed in hope again. Hope for Snake."

_That was the cheesiest thing I have ever heard him say, _Samus thought, raising a brow. "Again…? Has this happened before?" she asked.

"Oh, uhm," Otacon revoked, suddenly embarrassed in his little slip. "Yes… but it's not exactly the same… I think it's better if you ask Snake."

"Otacon, when Snake and I were held captive in the dungeon… this Liquid mentioned a woman's name… Meryl—if I could remember precisely," she narrowed her gaze at him. "Do you know her?"

The engineer nodded slowly. "But again, it isn't in my place to tell you about that. You have to talk to Snake."

"If it means I get answers, then surely I will," Samus said as she stood from her seat. The rain had settled into tiny quiet drops now, but she was certain of its return sometime within the day. "Thank you, Otacon. I'll see you later."

"Oh, wait—Samus!"

"Yes?"

Otacon erected from his seat too. "I've finally started the repairs on your ship! Fortunately, the algorithms are quite similar to our own, uh…well, here on this planet. Although I'm still not used to the technology so it would take some ti—!"

Otacon was caught off-guard as Samus planted a small peck on his cheek. The engineer blushed fiercely, and Samus could stifle herself from giggling at his reaction. "Thank you, Otacon… for everything."

Recovering himself, Otacon straightened his glasses that were once more askew. "Uh… oh, uhm… it's… it's no problem, Samus. I… I wish you luck then with your…uhm Snake situation."

* * *

It wasn't a difficult task for Samus Aran to track the mercenary down. She found him leaning against a giant spruce tree, smoking to his heart's contentment. At the moment he saw her approach, she gave him a small wave with a wiggle of her fingers. Even Snake couldn't help but snigger to himself at how adorable she looked.

"Impressive," Snake whistled. "How'd you manage to find me here? Pretty sure I left my tracks covered."

"The trees provide a good view," Samus replied, insouciant. "And I could smell the cigarette smoke about a thousand miles away."

"No, you can't."

"You don't really know what I'm capable of," she smirked.

Snake coughed in his hand and hid away the used cigarette into his portable ashtray. "So, uh…how're you? Haven't seen you in days."

"The same could be said for you." She sat on the ground next to him, and Snake felt compelled to do the same. "But I've been better." A stray blade of grass caressed her fingers, and she twirled it idly as she continued, "Used to getting burnt and cut—yes, but not quite as painful as getting shot on the thigh with a metal bullet. I take it that life as a mercenary has been as merciful?"

"Hm, you know it."

The wind carried the musty yet fresh fragrance of the trees and the earth. A brief and comforting silence fell between them before Snake stood and invited her to walk with him. "Come on, I want to show you something." A bit wary of his surprises, but still yearning to see more of the frontier lands, Samus agreed.

Snake and Samus hiked deeper into the thick forests, making small conversations here and there, mostly relieving the happier memories—talking about Otacon, and comparing battle styles. Snake was astounded when Samus explained how her enhanced strength allowed her to break the bones of a human, or even a grizzly bear. To combat her impressive feat, the mercenary comically but proudly exulted how he could actually down fifteen shots of tequila within ten seconds.

Anyone else happening upon the scene might have assumed them as old friends reminiscing days of yore, and this made Samus realize that the memory of what had happened in the helicopter and the relevant questions in her head have been buried over their profound exchanges and random digressions. She wanted to stop for a moment and ask him straight away until he paused in his step and pointed to the scene before them.

"We're almost there," Snake said. "Just beyond those trees—do you see it?"

"Oh my… is that… a waterfall?"

"Indeed, my dear."

Snake gestured that they hurry before the rain could catch up to them. The sound of the mighty waters falling from a hundred of meters resounded greater as they walked closer, and ironically was the most relaxing sound Samus had ever heard. Nature never ceased to surprise her.

But neither did Snake. He led her to the back of the waterfall, cautioning her to take heed of the slippery surface, and Samus found herself entering a dim cave. It seemed like someone had been here before due to the crates of resources stacked away in the corners and the small albeit efficiently crafted campfire in the center. While she continued to explore every inch of the small space, Snake proceeded to grant them some warmth and light.

"This is just amazing," Samus marveled, finally settling down to sit in front of the campfire. "Is this like your secondary secret base or something?"

"Pretty much. It's…kind of funny how I found this place—I discovered it by accident, but I felt like I was bound to find it…somehow…" Even he thought it puzzling to provide a coherent description. "I'm not sure how I could explain it, it's like I just—"

"You felt connected to it…?"

"Yeah…connected." Snake looked at her. "Sounds like you've got something on your mind. Care to share a story, Sam?"

_Sam_. She smiled at the nickname. "I… I have a question, actually. To be honest with you, it's been gnawing at me since this morning, and I've tried asking Hal—I mean, Otacon—about it, but he told me it was not in his place to grant me such answers." She turned her head up from the flames to meet his gaze, the once foggy eyes now clearer than ever. "The man you called Liquid…who is he? And what does he want from you?"

Snake pierced his lips into a thin line, allowing the sound of the falls to refuge the anticipated heavy silence. Years after Shadow Moses and Big Shell, he suppressed the painful aspects of his past into the abyss of his unconscious, now entangled within the gossamer web of repressed memories. He wanted to tell Samus that it would be too much to bear, however, seizing a glimpse of her enthralling yet sorrowful eyes made him feel it would be unfair for her. He owed her this much. She put her life on the line for his. Now, his trust was the least he could give her.

"Liquid," he began. "Liquid…is my twin brother."

Samus' eyes narrowed, not much of confusion rather more with concern. "Your brother? But how… But he wanted you dead!"

"It's a long and complex story that even I believe don't completely comprehend. All I know is that Liquid wanted me dead because I attempted to murder a man whom I had no idea was our own father. He loathes me because he believes that I possess the dominant genes."

"Dominant genes?"

"Let's just say he thinks I'm _naturally _better than he is." He scoffed, then sniggered. "If you ask me, I'm just way more handsome than he is."

Samus couldn't help herself from grinning at the unanticipated jest. "Oh, right. Because he's blonde, hm? Makes him look bad."

"I didn't say anything about blondes looking bad. In fact, I know this incredibly beautiful one, and she's standing right before me." When Samus turned to face him with the conspicuous pink tints on her cheeks, Snake gave her the most genuine smirk he could muster. "And hey, I mean it."

Perceiving that their gazes might lock, Samus turned to face the waterfall. "I… uhm… we're getting off-topic. You were talking about your brother?"

Just then, Samus felt his hand gently reach for her chin, pulling her to face him. The gesture surprised her, but she knew it did him as well, seeing Snake slightly gulp when she looked up at him. "Why don't we talk about you for a change, Miss Bounty Huntress? What's your story?"

"Me? Why me? I'm not… not important," Samus was quick to respond.

"Not important? Don't give me that crap. You survived a fucking crash from space—how does that imply as 'not important'?"

"Well, I just…" Samus shrugged and raised her brows. "What do you want to know?"

"For one, why did you leave the militia?"

Samus paused for a moment before answering. "Before I say anything… If I answer your questions, I will get to ask you anything too. Deal?"

"Fine. Swear my life on it, ma'am."

"Don't call me that."

"Yes, Ma'am Sam."

Samus rolled her eyes before proceeding to answer. "Well, I left because I felt deep within that I had a different calling. Though I pursued a more…um, independent career, I continued to work for the Galactic Federation. Eventually, it made me realize that I should probably cut ties with them. For good."

"Why is that?"

"Because I discovered something that could ruin the political reputation of the entire federation. Sometime before I crash-landed here, I accidentally came across a top-secret laboratory where illegal breeding of such dangerous creatures called Metroids was being undertaken. I knew what I had to do: destroy the lab and everything else in it. I don't care if the federation hunts me down and tries to kill me. Metroids are dangerous creatures, and I know what those vile things could do. But, it was only now that I've realized what I had done and the cost of it… and I… now I don't belong anywhere."

"Fate brought you here for a reason, Sam," Snake said softly. "You could belong here if you chose to."

Samus granted him a smile. "You're a good man, Snake. Otacon was right about you. Though I'm curious and if it's all right to ask… Who was Meryl? Liquid mentioned her, and when I asked Otacon, he told me to ask only you."

There it was. The dreaded albeit inevitable question. Snake hoped Samus would have forgotten. Yet, the name remained intact in her mind. Snake sighed, trying to assemble the words to form into the answer he meant. "Meryl… Meryl was my superior's niece—former superior. She was a good friend. Eventually, we… tried to get together, tried to see where things would go… but we—I knew it just can't. She was young and full of wonder. Too young to risk away her life on the battlefield. I couldn't bear to thrust her into mine, knowing what it consists of."

Samus narrowed her brows. "And what does your life consist of, Snake?"

Snake shrugged. "Metal Gear. War. Battles where I could fall any day," he said, indifferent.

"Well, if you ask me," Samus muttered, poking the fire with a pine branch. "I see adventure, excitement, honor, and… you." She glanced up and remained when she saw that his eyes were already affixed on hers. "You—a man of great value. A hero who'd never recognize himself as such."

"You're either pulling my leg or trying to flirt me with me," Snake smirked.

"Give me a break, Snake! I'm being serious, and you're being absurd." Samus was withholding the grin that threatened to curve her lips, but Snake saw through it and let out a low chuckle.

"Do you even flirt, Miss Aran? Or are you really a master of deadpan?"

"I am no—! We're digressing again."

"Talk can be boring," Snake said, his voice only a subtly higher than a whisper as he inched closer towards her. "And it's my turn to ask. I want to know if there is someone in the life of the mighty, stolid, tempestuous Samus Aran."

He was so close to her, it was perplexing whether the warmth was coming from him or the fire. Her heart palpitated within her chest. The influx of emotions wanted to push out the long-dormant romantic that lay in abeyance within her. "I don't believe in love," she forced herself to say.

"You don't?" Snake replied, unfazed. He continued to inch closer towards the woman who remained unmoved and indignant in place. "Then you wouldn't mind if I kiss you right now?"

Samus felt her eyes suddenly close shut as if they did so automatically on their own. This peculiar feeling, though she knew exactly what it was, she never had encountered before. There was a silent agreement made between her heart and mind that she was falling in love with him. It was frightening but exhilarated to discover what could happen—what may happen. Only at this age of thirty-three did she attain a vague awareness of what love could be.

The sound of rushing water eased her thoughts, hushing the cries within her mind that told her this was wrong, reminding her of the woman named Meryl.

_Meryl._

Samus' eyes abruptly opened. Snake was right in front of her, his gaze a seductive softness and lips merely inches away. "We… we shouldn't," she whispered. "I don't want to intrude like this." Her mind saturated with a wild mix of emotions, Samus headed out of the waterfall, hoping Snake would forgive her sudden leave. As she stepped outside the opening of the cave, heavy rain greeted her, soaking her to a cold, wet state.

"Samus!" She heard his faint cry from behind. "Hey, what the hell was that? What did you mean, intrude? You're not doing anything wrong!"

"But… b-but Meryl… it wouldn't be fair for her…" Her yells were muffled by the rain. She crossed her arms over her body to embrace herself. She wanted to apologize, but she didn't know how to explain herself, the torrent of emotions overwhelming her.

"Unfair?" Snake asked, clearly befuddled. "It's unfair to me that you left just like that!"

"I'm scared, okay?" Samus yelled. "This feeling is—it's new to me! Meryl was lucky to have you, and I would never ever want to get in her way or yours or whatever you have! And I… I—!"

"Whoa there, Sam! Slow down," Snake said. He was closer once more, his comforting warmth returning. "What Meryl and I had was the past. Couldn't we just focus on the present and the future? Come on. You're always so direct with me, why not just tell me what you want to say?"

"For fuck's sake! I think I love you, you shithead!" Samus cried out. The warmth of her face combated the cold of the rain showers. Thunder roared in the distance. "And I just didn't want her to lose someone as… as different and precious and perfect as you."

Snake shook his head, then took one giant and swift step towards her. "I'd be a fucking idiot to let someone as different and precious and perfect as you go." With that, he pressed his lips against hers, gently cupping her cheek as he did.

His touch was swift yet tender, warm, and inviting. Unsure of what to do, she left her hands hanging up awkwardly in the air. Snake chuckled under their kiss and, with his free hand, guided her to embrace the back of his neck. He whispered that she tilts her head a little and open her mouth. Samus complied and allowed the man to slowly caress her lips with his own. Samus, in her leisure, began to kiss back in rhythm. Her eyebrows furrowed as their kiss grew in fervor. Though they were immersed in their closure, the rain was a slight inconvenience, and the two broke away.

"We should go somewhere warmer," Snake muttered, holding her closely.

"I'd… I'd like that," Samus whispered back between her smile.

* * *

Soaked from the rain, Samus and Snake entered through the backdoors of the cabin. Snoring from the living room was heard. Otacon was asleep on the couch, some adult-rated Manga slumped lazily over his face, earning him some teasing from the couple. As they made their way to Snake's bedroom, Snake could not stifle himself from pointing out how Samus was staring at the wet shirt that clung to his figure. "Hey, you know I could show you a lot more in the bedroom," he teased.

Samus blushed, quite embarrassed from having been caught. She gave a low laugh before pulling him towards her and capturing his lips for a quick kiss. Snake had to confess that not only did Samus' strength surprise him, but so did her ardor. He made a brief recall of the last time he ever made love to a woman but shrugged it off, considering he could just wing it. The challenge, however, was that Samus seemed… inexperienced. Getting her to merely kiss properly has already proven arduous. But for Snake, it was immensely exciting.

As they entered the bedroom, Snake heeded Otacon's reminders and locked the door. He then proceeded to set-up the fireplace while Samus sat on the edge of the bed and spoke suddenly, "I've never been with a man like this before."

Snake looked at her over his shoulder. "Figured as much."

"Uh, excuse me?"

"You couldn't even kiss me back properly," Snake replied, stretching his arms up and flexing the muscles on his torso.

"You took me by surprise," Samus retaliated. "Are you saying that I'm a novice?"

"You just admitted—you've never been with a man before."

"I could be a natural at it."

"Now, you're just turning me on," Snake chuckled as he slowly strode towards her. He asked her to kneel on the bed until she was leveled on par with him, and ravished her lips with another set of deep kisses. When he heard her moan slightly, he decided to halt. "Samus, I really want to do this with you, but I'm not going to lay a single finger on you until you tell me to. I will never take advantage of you."

Samus tugged at his damp shirt, and slid her hand within, touching and feeling every solid muscle, scar, and the coarse skin as if she was committing it to memory. Her hands then found their way down to the buckle of Snake's belt, and she slowly undid them. Stopping midway, she returned her gaze back at his. "You stole my first kiss, Snake," she mumbled, before moving over to his ear and whispered, "Better finish what you started."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Snake grumbled as he lunged for Samus' mouth once more. He kissed her yearningly, swelling her lips and turning it into a deeper shade of pink. His tongue positioned in between the surface of their mouths, probing but not entering. Emboldened with lust, Samus parted her lips and allowed him entry. She didn't move; instead, she waited and observed.

"Stick your tongue out a little," Snake instructed her in husky, erotic, whispers, and the speed of her heart began to rise all the more. She complied and felt him entangle hers with his in slow and intricate movements, ending with a kiss. "Now, you try."

Samus imitated, and albeit her inexperience, the outcome was not as awkward as she had expected. They continued their kiss, eyes drawn to a close. She felt Snake's firm hand travel up her thighs then to her lower back. All these sensations were so new to her. It riled her up. It was dizzying. It all felt too good.

Snake's hands tugged at the corners of her shirt and gave Samus a sincere look. Remembering his promise, she gave a nervous nod; then the next thing she knew, her sweater was off. The man marveled at the sight before him. Samus' physique was more than he had dreamt. _Snake, you lucky bastard_, he thought to himself as he closed the gap between them, kissing and nibbling her neck.

Samus groaned at his touch and let out a slight yelp when he marked her. "Wha—what was that?"

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" Snake asked, apologetic. He gently kissed on the small swell.

"No… No, don't worry, you didn't." Samus pulled him closer to her chest, entangling her fingers on his dark, damp hair. She glanced down at him. "When're you getting rid of that shirt?"

"Kept you waiting, huh?" Snake grinned at her, and as expected, she rolled her eyes. He pulled his shirt off and loosed his belt before ridding off his pants, keeping the boxers on.

Samus mirrored his movements, tugging off her jeans. She was about to take the next garment off but hesitated, her fingers lingering on the lace. "Snake," she said, a slight tremor in her tone. "You're not going to hurt me, right?"

Snake leaned over her, and Samus could remember the first time she met him—the first time she had locked gazes with his silver-blue eyes amidst the blizzard when she crashed. Ever since then, she felt safe and secure with him. He was a man of his word.

"I'd never, Sam. I love you," Snake smiled at her, moving a stray strand of gold from her face and cupping her cheek. "And… call me David."

"David?"

"Yeah. My real name is David."

Samus' emerald eyes glowed against the amber luster of the fireplace. "Well, David," she whispered. "I love you too. I trust you." A once trembling hand, now steady and secure, held on to Snake's, and Samus gently gestured him to do the honors.

Under the gray clouds, the soft echoes of thunder and the pouring rain their music, amidst the glow of the fire ambers that made their countenances glow, the bounty hunter and the mercenary finally give in to their heart's innermost desires.

* * *

**...**


End file.
